


Medea

by klingonvalhalla



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-08 21:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 43,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klingonvalhalla/pseuds/klingonvalhalla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atlantis receives a remote distress signal from a seemingly abandoned Wraith facility. A small core team is formed to investigate, leading the three to discover unknown horrors hidden within the Pegasus Galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of my 2008-2009 story of the same title. It is undergoing a complete overhaul to be more consistent and fit into the canon presented by the Legacy series.  
> I apologize for the formatting. This is the first time I've posted anything here, so bear with me while I get everything sorted out.

Kera’thun, a planet on the fringes of Pegasus Galaxy, remaining a neutral zone in the Wraith factions. It was home to a facility which housed young Wraith in a time when it was dangerous for children to be kept with their mothers. Hives were being destroyed by both the Lanteans and the in fighting amongst their own kind. 

With Death looming over them all, the facility shut down most of their outgoing transmissions, limiting them to emergency supply orders. Only those mothers who left their children in a desperate attempt to protect them knew of the location. To others it was simply an out of commission cloning facility.   
This large, desert continent was Ash’s home. She was the eldest of the females, and thus inherited the job of caretaker for the fruit fed toddlers and the few helpless infants. The facility was supplied enough so that the few clever men and blades who maintained the functions of the systems and prepared the meals had enough humans to keep them alive. Ash posed a problem; she was a young adult and needed to feed more often than a Wraith in their prime.  
Sitting outside, alone in the dry air and dying light of the sun. The three moons were already visible in the purpling sky. Ash looked out, past the perimeter fences surrounding the facility. One was a visible metal fence and a couple of paces within was an electrical force field to ensure the safety of the precious occupants.  
Just over the first dune she watched two slim figures stand on the crest. One was taller than the other. She noticed there was no clothing billowing in the wind. Even with her enhanced vision, adapted for desert life and seeing long distances despite the harsh sunlight, Ash could barely make out their outlines. They were black blurs against the darkening sky.   
Soon the figures turned, dropping to all fours and vanishing over the lip of the dune. Ash frowned. She had never seen a human move like that, not that she had seen many that were not cocooned and prepped for feeding, but those she had seen moved on two legs.   
Humans were rare on this continent. Most of the inhabitants lived across the narrow sea where it was more hospitable. Here water and plant life were few and far between. The nearest oasis was an hour’s travel by dart.  
The small population who chose to live here benefitted from the silt dug from deep beneath the sands where the red rocks grew. They would excavate the dark sand, sealing the outside walls with cement to prevent the tunnels from collapsing. The silt, a rusty red substance, was consumed raw or pounded into a cake, mixed with water and baked. It was addictive and detrimental to the health of the consumer, often shortening their already brief lives by decades.   
“Dirt eaters” was what her handler, Firstlight, called them with disgust. Those who were affected by the silt could not be consumed without adverse side effects.  
Ash buried her bare feet in the sand. Firstlight would come looking for her just before third moon was over the dry mountains. The air was cooling rapidly and felt wonderful on her skin. She was more yellow than green, her skin adapting as she became better suited for the planet’s conditions. Her lashes were long, thick and dark to protect her eyes from the sun. She applied black kohl every morning to further prevent sun damage and sensitivity, even if she did not plan on venturing outside.   
“It is nearly dark,” a deep voice said behind her.   
Ash felt Firstlight behind her. The blade was past his prime and old enough to remember the true Death’s daughter before her demise. His heavy, long fingered hand came to rest on the crown of her head. Short clipped claws, filed smooth to avoid scratching the delicate skin of younglings, vanished in the dark brown waves of her hair. “Come inside. You have charges to attend.”  
“What, chase them down for sleep because you’re too decrepit to do it yourself?”  
His laugh was still rich and it made him seem so much younger. With a shake of his head, he turns back to the open door. “Well then, will you help this feeble old blade wrangle a flock of unruly children.”

 

Ash and Firstlight finished getting all of the children settled for the night. The older groups needed far less sleep, going for up to three days, but the toddlers and infants slept just as human children. It wasn’t uncommon to see a child taking a nap in the middle of a corridor, or a crevice in the wall, exhausted from their games.  
Ironheart greeted the two when they entered the common area where three adolescent males were in the far corner, hunched over a game board. The cleverman remained so as to be able to break up a fight if needed. Until their first feeding, males were prone to violent outbreaks towards one another to assert dominance. It would prepare them later, when vying for the attention of a Queen.  
“I see you are both in one piece.” Ironheart said, his pale, still sharp, yellow eyes never fully leaving the group.  
Ash joined him at the game board he had taken. The game he played was more for the calming repetitive movement than actual strategy, and sat unfinished when they joined him. “I saw humans today.”  
This caused alarm in both of the males. She could practically taste the emotion they gave off.   
“Are you certain?” Firstlight asked.  
“Fairly so. They stood on two legs. I couldn’t make out their features.” Ironheart moved a piece to the center of the board as she watched; “It was strange…they walked upright, but when they ran, it was on four.”  
Ironheart frowned and she felt uncertainty from Firstlight. “Were they human?” She asked, pressing in hope to find out why they worried so about two humans, if that was what they were.  
“Probably, those who are on the affects of silt act not as a human should.”  
Ash nodded, accepting the information. Still, it pulled at her. Firstlight was always cautious, but Ironheart was difficult to shake. For a cleverman he had the unyielding soul of a blade. She would let them speak to one another in private then get the information from Firstlight later. 

He was often willing to bend to her, more so now that she was a budding adult. Prior, he was the indulgent handler, giving her extra pieces of sticky sweet fruit before she went to sleep. His attention had shifted as she aged, instinctively she knew he was contending for her attention, whether he did so consciously or not.

  
Firstlight remained behind as she went to the chamber where their wards slept. Their slow, soft breathing welcomed her into the room. She still slept in the place where she had been assigned upon her arrival. If one of her charges needed something, she was close. Tired as she was, having last fully slept a week ago, she sank into the bed.  
Asleep within moments, Ash found herself being shaken awake by Firstlight sooner than she would have like. Disoriented and irritable, she sat up and let her eyes adjust to the light. The milky white membranes slid back, taking what vestiges of sleep left with it. 

“Get up, we need to get the children to the upper levels.” He urged her, taking her wrist and pulling her from the bed before she could protest or ask why.  
“What is happening?” She asked, beginning to rouse sleepy, uncooperative younglings.  
“We’re being attacked.”  
“Death?”  
“No. They are coming in from below. Hurry, child,” he shouted aloud.  
All the children were out of bed within moments, detecting the air of danger and state of alarm as the facility began to awaken as a whole. Firstlight was forced to carry two who began to get upset. Ash had one by the hand, and another who clung to her skirt with plump fists. The child whose hand she grasp wanted to know why everyone was afraid. She did not cry, but held on to Ash for stability. Unable to find an answer for her, Ash tried to reassure her with a thought of bravery. She had to set an example as a prospective queen. To keep her composure in the face of the unknown.  
As quickly as two adults with eight young children in tow, they began to make their way to the nearest transport. The alarm had begun to screech when they passed the common area. This meant, whatever was attacking had breached the main level. Ash willed away the cold fear that gripped her core for the sake of the two who held on to her.  
Ahead, Firstlight had the remaining four lined behind him in two rows with Ash bringing up the rear. When he stopped, the children immediately clustered close to the wall at their left. Releasing the two he held, Firstlight barked an order to go through the common room.  
Ironheart stood before them, holding a door closed. His claws dug deep into the chitinous surface to prevent them from sliding open. “Go, now,” he shouted at her. The children were already in motion, filing past her.  
She followed, looking back before disappearing into the room. Her last sight of Ironheart and Firstlight was haloed in brilliance of stunner blasts. The door had opened.

Ironheart’s shout of: “Leave me. Don’t let them get through that door,” died with the sound of the wet ripping of meat from bone. It still pulsed in her mind, as did the feeling of hatred that washed fire over her mind . She wanted to curl in on herself, hide in a corner, but the eight younglings watching her for instruction depended on her ability to repress that. If she couldn’t keep her charges safe, then what good would she be as a ruler?  
The door opposite the one they entered led to the corridors that housed the adults who maintained the facility. Past that, adjacent the room that belonged to the commander who ran this facility, was a transport. It was a long trek for young children who were hindered by fear. Ash didn’t want to risk leading, where she could not keep an eye over them all. 

She opened the door, checked for any signs of life. This side of the facility felt dead. The silence unnerved her. Ash hoped that it was due to the state of alert.The old blades would be tasked with eliminating the threat while the clevermen sought to secure the breach.   
“Who knows where to go?”   
One of the boys, Nightwind’s seventh son whom she called Sweets, nodded. “Haze showed me.”  
“You lead, I will take the rear, but,” the boy stopped, “let me go through the doors first.”  
He bowed his wispy white crown and started ahead. It took some stride adjustments before she stopped stepping on the heels in front of her. Over and over she ran through a list she began compiling after Ironheart’s voice went silent. They would need desert gear, just in case, as well as plenty of food for the younglings. The cold empty pit within her core that sent cold fire to her limbs reminded her that she too needed sustenance. The human cargo was on the floor below. It would be a week before starvation truly set in. She hoped the problem would be contained before she would have to venture below.  
The door to the commander’s chamber was open. Ash had her charges halt while she investigated. Inside she could smell blood and a sharp, fetid odor. Deep green, near black blood smeared the floor in great sweeping arches. A stunner lay in the middle of the mess. Placing a hand over her nose, Ash pressed against the wall and leaned just enough to look into the sleeping quarters.  
A lean, knotted, patchy black furred back. The leather edge of a coat was beneath it. Ash pressed harder against her nose and mouth, fighting not to hiss. The great thing moved on long, sinewy limbs. As it did, Ash knew the fate of the commander, Blade’s Edge. Ironheart was next in line for the position if Blade fell, and Ironheart was probably dead. By tradition,Jeweltongue would have the position if he still lived.  
The thing turned and Ash saw its awful face. Teeth stained with Blade’s life and eyes like piercing gold reflected in the dim light, a bright flash from within. Thin lips pull back, wrinkling its long snout. The growl shook her bones and rattled her teeth.   
“Ash,” one of the girls shouted, jarring her from the fright. Scooping the child up before she could see the horror inside, Ash grabbed the abandoned stunner and fled, closing the door behind them. A thud causes them all the start. It was trying to get out, and Ash did not want to remain to see if it could manage. Several children began to whimper. “Hurry, all of you. This way,” she said to prevent any from freezing in place. "It’ll be alright." She tried to assure them, though could not express the confidence, and the younglings picked up on it. They clustered around her as they reached the upper level.   
When the door slid open with a hiss, Ash’s breath caught in her chest. Four of those unspeakable creatures were crouched in the hall. The remains of blades were scattered, awash with their dark blood, growing black in the cold air. One could take out a seasoned commander, Ash could only imagine what they could do to a child. The door closed before they could so much as flash their ugly teeth.  
“Where are we going?” The question bounced in her mind as the group looked at her with expectant, fearful eyes.  
“Down.”  
“Aren’t those things down there?”  
“I don’t know. That’s where they came in. Maybe they’re all on the other floors, now that they’re in. We can get out how they got in.”  
“How do you know?”  
“I don’t. Now stay close to me and be shadows.”  
This floor was dark. In the state of alert power was drawn from this section to strengthen the shields and security on the floors above. Ash hoped she could spare the moment to feed before they escaped.  
The younglings were herded into the supply room where Ash began to hand out desert suits. “Put them on quickly,” she ordered them, stripping and squeezing in to her own. The suit prevented the sun from scorching the flesh, the sand from ripping it, and water from leaving it. Three had to be helped into their’s, and Ash pulled their tunics back over it. 

“It’s hot,” one complained as she shuffled them out, stiff legged in the unbroken in black membranes. 

  
Looking for the breach in the hull was priority, should have been priority, but Ash wanted to feed. Starving to death before help could reach them would do little good. It felt selfish in the face of danger, but being able to call on the strength to defend her wards and herself surpassed escape as the immediate option.   
Several husks lay in the hall and not far were what she assumed, as there was little left to identify them, the remains of several blades. The younglings pressed close, hindering her movement as they clung to her legs and cloak. The cocooned humans were in various states of the feeding process. Blood staining the thin membrane holding them in place caused Ash to pause before she lifted her hand. She peeled away the sticky threads and found a bite on the arm of the woman in stasis.   
The others were the same. All had at least one bite on various limbs. The strangeness made her frown. Did those things try to eat the humans and find them not to their liking? Shaking the thought away, Ash chose a strong male and took her fill, leaving a withered husk where a man once stood.  
“Where to now?”  
“We need to find where they got in.”  
Again Sweets led them. Closer to the ground, he would be able to see any openings more efficiently than Ash, who stood over all but three blades and two clevermen. Several of the children were becoming relaxed, lagging and talking amongst themselves. She watched as they would grab one another to speak privately. Letting her disappointment spread outward, she watched as they straightened and moved apart, filing behind Sweets.   
“Here!” She saw the boy beam at her, seeking approval.  
“Good. Move aside and let me check ahead. Wait here. I will not be long.”  
Crouching down, Ash crawled into the space. Once she got past the hull, the tunnel opened enough that she could nearly stand upright. After a few meters she could see a pinpoint of pale light. It wasn’t far from the surface. For a few moments longer she ventured ahead, to make sure it was the moonlight, and not leading them into further danger.  
With confidence she made her return, so sure that her wards would now be safe until aid could arrive. She unfolded herself from the entrance, with a sharp grin, and prepared to give the good news. Her stomach dropped and bile rose in her throat at what waited for her. The younglings lay in pieces, hardly eaten. Sweets, what was left of him, lay in front of the rest. As the eldest, he tried to protect them. As the eldest, there was less of him to identify but for the fine hair that his mother was so proud of.  
Once her grief subsided, fear took hold. Where did those creatures go? She had not been gone long, nor had she heard screams. Younglings would instinctively screech when frightened to alert the nearest adult.   
Above her a low growl made the hair on the back of her neck stand. Ash didn’t look, she couldn’t bear to. She didn’t want to see the entrails of her failure hanging from its jaws. She failed them all in her selfishness. In her need to feed, and her stubbornness to check first. Sweets could have gone while she stayed behind.  
If they wanted her, they would have to work for it, burn the energy gained from the younglings. So she ran; ran until her lungs burned and her legs grew weak. She ran until she no longer heard footfalls behind her, until the stench of rancid, hot breath faded.  
She had reached the commander’s quarters. The thing that had been in the room had left nothing but bloodied bones, leather, and pieces it didn’t like. Proud Blade’s Edge would be nothing but shit before the sun rose. Sadness clouded her vision as she slipped between his coats, concealing herself as best she could.  
Later she would go back to the breach, and if they weren’t guarding it, she would escape. Someone needed to know what happened, even Death.   
She hoped Firstlight still lived.

 

Those unnameable, terrible things slept with bellies full. Ash watched, still and quiet from an opening in the wall where she had wedged herself into one of the ventilation ducts. Faces ending in narrow snouts stained green-black with dried blood, flaked onto the floor where younglings should be playing. Even the infants were not spared. The ones whose mothers gave them up, too young to be weaned, in the hope that Death would not find them.   
Crawling on her belly, Ash hoped to reach the communication deck without detection. It was on the highest level, located at the center of the facility. The default system would not send a distress signal unless the user input the request directly. If she could get the signal out, perhaps rescue would come. Perhaps there were others that escaped notice, covered in black, tired, and afraid just as she. She closed her eyes and hoped. 

It had been selfish of her to want to escape, leaving this death trap to the unsuspecting. A warning and a call for help should be sent out. None should be forced to go in blind.  
When she reached the first teleport, Ash dared to stick her head out in the open. She had shaved her hair in the quiet of the central ventilation shaft, leaving nothing but enough to identify the color. Long hair, even pulled up and off the neck would give those things something to grab. She had cried over the pile of glossed waves that lay at her feet, knowing it would be years before it returned in full.  
The hallway appeared empty. Carefully she slid out and onto the floor, letting out a shaking breath when nothing came to greet her. Everything was so silent, she felt empty and alone. Ash wished against all odds, that Firstlight was alive. She wanted to be comforted by his warm smile and good humor, to be told that everything would turn out well at the end.   
When the transporter took her to the upper level, Ash began to feel a prickling fear that ran down her neck, moving over every raised ridge of her spine. The dark hallway before her opened like a hungry maw, filling her sensory pits with hot, yellow air. A shiver shook her, and she wanted to retreat back to the safety of the facility’s interior. _No_ she thought, lifting her chin and straightening her shoulders. _I will do this_.  
The communications deck was just ahead. It was rare that any of the crew went there for anything other than maintenance, or to update the systems. Those things had no reason to be there. If she could make it, she would be safe until rescue came. Once she stepped into the black there was no return, she would fail her wards, Firstlight, and Ironheart’s death would be for nothing.   
Ash broke into a frantic run. Her long legs flew, not hindered by doubt, but fueled by terror. The door slid open as she stopped, panting in the empty room. With only one way in or out, she locked the door and sought out any air vents. There was one large enough for her to squeeze in to just above the diagnostics display.  
As she approached the console, Ash saw that a distress signal had been activated. She nearly screeched when a hand suddenly fell on her shoulder. 

“Did you get them to safety?”  
She turned to see Firstlight. The left side of his face had been nearly torn away. Shining white, his cheekbone stood out stark against the ragged wound. The eye hung limp from it’s socket. Feeding would repair the worst of the damage, but even regeneration could not prevent scarring.   
She looked away, not from the grotesque wound, but from shame. “No.” Her mind was open to him, sharing the loss and anger at herself for leaving them alone, unprotected, for a moment too long.   
“Do not blame yourself. You will be a Queen, remember that.”  
“Do you think we will survive this?”  
“You will survive this.”

Ash wouldn’t stand for it. To her knowledge, she and Firstlight were the only survivors of the attack, and he had the audacity to suggest sacrificing himself? She refused to hear it.  
“So will you.” She lowered her forehead to his and felt him let out a deep, weary breath. For a moment he looked his age. The lines of worry and fatigue were etched deep. “Promise me you will try?”  
Just a hint of a smile lifted the dense air from pressing on her shoulders. “Someone has to make sure you behave yourself.”  
“Precisely. You’re the only one I will listen to, so for the sake of my future hive, please do not die.”  
With a resigned sigh, he settled in beside her. They had positioned themselves under the lip of the console closest to the large ventilation duct. If the creatures managed to get through the door, they could escape relatively quickly. The opening was wide enough that Firstlight could fit through if he removed his coat. The shoulder armor and stiff leather would make squeezing through difficult.   
It worried her that his wound was showing no signs of healing. Even if he had not fed in a few days, there would still be some indication of regeneration. The edges were ragged and thick black blood oozed. Ash had removed the short cape around her shoulders to press against his face. It was doubtful that she would need to utilize it to shield her newly shorn head from the sun.  
“I don’t think we can save the eye.” She told him.  
Firstlight reached into his coat, pulling out a concealed rondel dagger. It was a short, smooth, slender blade designed to hide in sleeves, or just inside the lapel of a coat. The function was the pierce rather than cut. To kill a Wraith with a dagger, you must puncture a major artery. “Cut it off.”  
“Why can’t you?”  
“I can’t see, Ash. You have to do it.”  
Taking the offered blade, Ash bared her teeth in a grimace. “I don’t know if I can. Can this blade cut?”  
“It’ll have to, or just leave it as it is.”  
“We both know it can’t be left. If there’s any chance it will try to regrow…”  
“Then do it, child!” He snapped, clacking his teeth in irritation.  
Sucking in her breath, Ash tensed her body and rubbed her fingers together. The worst she’d ever dealt with until the attack was the occasional upset stomach of a youngling who ate too much. She would be a queen, she had to be prepared to see and experience things that repulsed her.  
Exhaling slowly, Ash brought the blade up to level with the exposed socked. Her hand shook as she gripped the optic nerve. _I can do this. It’s to help Firstlight. If I don’t, a new eye cannot begin to form_. The blade tip pierced through the cord easily and her handler hissed in pain. One more poke from the dagger allowed her to tear the eye from it’s socket. She placed the cloak over the damage to prevent the seeping pus from dripping over this face.  
Firstlight’s hand covered her’s, pressing the cloth tighter. His nostrils flared as his breath came in short, hard bursts. “The worst should be over,” he said and clenched his teeth.  
“Let us hope.”

  
Watching the door in shifts allowed Firstlight to sleep and Ash to attempt to relax. It had been more than three hours since they last heard movement from outside. Focusing on deep breathing, Ash didn’t notice when Firstlight failed to let her know that it was time to switch. She was oblivious until the stomach turning sound of bones popping roused her from meditation.   
The leather clad back shook as is from silent laughter. Ash sat up and reached for her handler. “Firstlight? Is all well?”   
“Fine.” She heard him grunt. His voice was thick and unlike himself.   
Ash placed her left hand on his back, and felt the shoulder blades shift in an unnatural way. Unsure as to what she should do, Ash chose to lean against him, resting her forehead against the base of his neck. She remained there until the shaking stopped and Firstlight sagged against her.   
“What happened?”  
“I do not know.”   
Ash pulled him back so that he rested against her. Both arms encircled his broad chest while her off hand stroked his forearm. With her chin on his armored shoulder, Ash closed her eyes and listened to his heart slow to a steady thump. It felt weak, close to human rhythm. “You’ll need to feed soon.”  
“There are no humans left in the facility.”  
“I know.”  
“Did it need to be said?”  
“No. I’m afraid, Firstlight.”  
“As am I.”

 

Her long fingered hands had worked to rip the cloak into a bandage that could wrap over the wound without covering the undamaged sensory pit. He was not completely blind on that side. His skin was unnaturally warm under her fingers as she smoothed his hair away from the freshly bandaged area. All her worry and disappointment in herself was evident through her touch, as she felt his stoic resolve and- She withdrew her hand and sat back on her heels.  
Forgetting time and the surroundings was simple when his lips caught her’s. The suppressed urges from the hope that she would take a hive and a consort of her own broke free. Ash, unsure of what to do, let him lead. 

Typically it was the female who initiated, and the male was often shy. Young queens tended to take consorts close to their own age as a hive was teaming with those seeking her favor. Firstlight was older than the one who sired her, and had fathered children, one of which had been residing at the facility. His second eldest son, Fallenstar, made lame from a complication during birth, watched over the oldest group of males. Ash did not want to think of his fate. For the sake of Firstlight, she tried to clear her mind of his name.  
She writhed against him. He was hot against her belly and tasted of the musk sap used to hold braids in place beneath her tongue. Teeth grazed her neck, sending shivers to her loins. Her climax relaxed her body, allowing his. Fullness gave way to pressure, then bliss until he subsided and withdrew. Her hands were warm under his open coat.  
Claws that trailed down her spine suddenly cut into her flesh. Ash sucked in her breath and exhaled with a warning growl. When she looked down at Firstlight, she saw his face contorted in pain. Claws that dug deeper, preventing her from moving for fear of tearing her skin or damaging her sensitive spinal ridge.   
She could only watch. Blood soaked through the bandage, and his fine, angular features shifted and bulged. Wet pops and snaps entered the rush of blood that filled her ears. She heard nothing else, not his cry of pain or her own screech of terror. Claws that had been smooth, cut short for handling younglings hooked into her flesh like talons.   
She begged him to turn loose. Whether by acquiesce or the spasm that suddenly caused him to arch his back into a bow, Firstlight released her. Now free, she backed herself against the wall, far enough to avoid being struck but close enough to help. Squeezing her eyes shut, Ash listened as the sound of fabric ripping and leather tearing deafened everything around her.  
It was only when a heavy silence overcame the room, did she open her eyes.   
Where her handler had lay, something terrible crouched. It’s dark, nearly black, mottled green bulk heaved with labored breath. Every exhale wheezed like a sickly human through grey, chitinous fangs. Her body froze, watching the unnamable beast as it rose on four trembling, long limbs ending in black tipped talons as long as her fingers. It stretched, ridged back bending into a deep U, and opened it’s long maw in a terrible yawn.  
Unlike the other creature, hair did not cover this beast. A mane of white ran from the base of its skull to mid back, and the narrow chin ended in twin braided strands. The small golden hoops Firstlight wore at their ends still glimmered in the dim light.   
It swung it’s terrible face towards her. One side shone bone white where the wound had been. The empty socket was a black void, while the other held a terrible red glow that shone behind the eye.   
“Firstlight?” She whispered, pressed against the wall and bunching her legs beneath her.  
The thing paused in mid step, as if it was fighting an internal conflict. Using the confusion, Ash sprung forward, her body gliding over the knotted, oil slick back of the thing that once was Firstlight. The gurgling roar behind her answered her question: Firstlight was no more. Whatever had been left of him ended in that moment’s pause.   
She could still feel the sticky heat in her loins and ached to know that he would be gone. Some small hope flared that whatever afflicted him could be cured, that he could return to his self and comfort her.   
Atop the display panel, Ash was able to jump over the charging monstrosity and grab the lip of the ventilation duct. A clawed hand raked over her calf as she slithered into the narrow opening. A yelp caught in her throat as she pulled herself to the main airway. Crawling onto the lip, she curled into a ball, holding onto her injured leg. The four gashes burned like fire, sending a throbbing pain up the length of her thigh, to settle just in front of her spine.   
Again she cried for the pain, for Firstlight, and for everything. Her world had crumbled to nothing, just as black as that empty socket staring into her soul. It had found the core of her and knew all that she feared. It knew her, somewhere in its warped and changed mind, intimately. Only moments he had shared her, tasted her. Now she lay naked, afraid, and injured. She did not want to think of the engorged member than hung between the shredded remains of leather trousers.   
Was being alone worse than what would have been if she had not escaped?

  



	2. Jennifer

Jennifer found herself on a desert planet trudging through fine sand and stumbling over dunes, sneezing every couple of paces. She hadn’t expected to be awoken by Bonewhite standing over her. If it were Guide, she wouldn’t have had such a fright. His peculiar nature was growing on her, as was the unannounced visits at all hours if he found something he thought was worth showing her.

The dart had vanished back through the gate, leaving her with John Sheppard and Rodney McKay at the rendezvous point. Her experience living on a hive for the past four months made her the default expert when Teyla was not available for off world missions. Rodney was needed for his residual telepathy and knowledge of Wraith technology, John explained when he picked up on her reluctance to join the impromptu mission.

“We picked up a transmission two days ago,” John huffed beside her, covered in the find rust colored sand that stirred with every step. The fact that he was winded from the hike made her feel better. She was often last in line, puffing her cheeks and hauling a too heavy pack. Rodney had taken her mantle now. 

“And?”

“And a facility this large is worth investigating. To operate something so…big, you need a great deal of power.”

“So you suspect there might be a ZPM powering it?”

“Yep. It’s worth a shot since the last mission was a bust.”

“At least the last planet wasn’t inhospitable.” Rodney muttered behind them.

Once he began to go on about sun poisoning, skin cancer and the detrimental effects of inhaling the dust, Jennifer tuned him out. The facility was still another fifteen minutes away, and just over the next dune, she could see the crown of it. It was a large black tumor growing from a world of orange, red, and brown. Jennifer paused at the crest of the rise and squinted against the glare that turned the landscape into an ocean. 

John’s question roused her from the trance. “Hey, does Guide know you’re here?” He asked again.

“I don’t think he does. Why?”

“Things tend to go south if he shows up, and I’d like this mission to be a pleasant little trip for once.”

Rodney’s voice, ever shrill as their strides led them further from the gate, “Pleasant? This is pleasant for you?”

Before he could continue, Jennifer slid down the dune trailing a cloud of choking red-brown. She didn’t want to hear it. After months away from Atlantis, she thought that maybe she’d miss Rodney. That maybe he had gotten over his infatuation with Sam. That time would heal the rift that had grown, but when she saw him irritably swatting insects away from his face, she realized that the feelings she had would never come back. It almost upset her more that she didn’t care.

The hive was a great distraction. There were days she wanted to go back to what was familiar, but Guide would put on his most charming shark’s smile and give her something new to work on. She looked forward to the time they spent together, how well they worked off of one another. For an ancient, life sucking alien, he was typically good company to work with.

As they walked in silence, the facility loomed every higher. The dunes grew less steep until they walked on nearly flat ground. “I don’t feel anyone.” Rodney said from behind, his voice hushed as if afraid something would pop out if he was any louder.

“Good, think of how much we’ll save on ammo, huh?” John’s laugh was nervous and Jennifer saw him lift the p90 close to his chest. Her fingers brushed the hilt of the pistol at her side, hidden under the stifling leather jacket. A stunner that Bonewhite provided stuck out of a pouch in her backpack. Remembering the warning the second in command had given her, Jennifer removed it and tucked it away in the back of her pants. The handle pressed against her lower back, still hot from the sun.

Past fence a sudden sense of foreboding struck her. Her heart began to pound in her ears and her palms grew sweaty. Boots echoed off the packed sand. They sounded like a small army marching to battle. 

The entry way opened before the group like a mouth into wet darkness that she imagined could swallow them whole. With one last look behind her at the shimmering dunes, Jennifer walked into the black.

 

The beams of their flashlights provided only narrow blades of light. Jennifer felt the darkness pressing down on her shoulders and leaving her hair damp. Strands loose from her braid clung to her neck. “What do you think happened?” As she spoke it sounded as though she was talking through static on a bad channel. 

“I don’t know. I can’t see a damn thing.” John’s response was barely audible. 

Rodney hadn’t said a word since they stepped through the entryway. Jennifer turned around to see him close behind, his eyes down and the light quivered in his grasp. Curious, Jennifer pointed her own flashlight down. What she saw turned her stomach and she stopped. Rodney collided with her, causing her to stumble a few steps.

Sweeping drag trails and spatters of blood covered the floor in an oily black sheen. Her boots were now dotted with it. Ahead, John had stopped when he noticed that his team had lagged. Jennifer heard the muttered: “shit”.

“This is bad,” Rodney whispered, clutching the p90 and his flashlight close. “This is really bad.”

“Where are the bodies?”

“I haven’t felt anyone since we got close enough. If they were dead, you’d think we’d have seen something by now?” Rodney edged closer to the wall as he spoke.

“Shit, okay, stick together. We’ve come this far, huh? It’d be a shame to come back without a souvenir.”

Jennifer didn’t feel assured when John spoke, his careless grin did not reach his eyes. She wasn’t listening as he and Rodney discussed where a ZPM could be located, she only followed when they made up their mind about where to check first: There were three levels, four if you counted the lowest, where waste was deposited to be recycled by the facility. The decision was the begin at the top and work their way down.

The stench of blood and decomposing bodies hit Jennifer’s nose. She could see no evidence of remains as they walked towards the nearest transporter. The flashlight only shone over the drying, sticky blood. Boots squelched in it, and the soles pulled as the foot lifted. Jennifer’s stomach was roiling, threatening to bring up the fruit that Guide’s personal servant brought to her for breakfast not four hours ago.

She had been surprised when she learned of how little meat Wraith consumed as children and adolescents. Fruit seemed to be the major staple, while vegetables and fungi made up the rest of their prepubescent diet. Meat was a rare treat, often prepared with a sweet glaze, but typically caused stomach upset. She had been served meat once while on the hive; fish, that had been so sweet it made her gag. The power bar in her back pocket remained unopened. She had planned on eating it to get something heavy and starchy in her body, however, her appetite had rapidly fled.

The upper level was devoid of blood. Cold and vaguely scented of cured tobacco, as Jennifer found was typical of most Wraith structures. The cleanliness struck her as far more frightening. She was used to the additional scents of individuals, and the various oils they adorned themselves with. John and Rodney were already walking ahead, weapons at the ready. She wondered what could have done this. Something at the top of the food chain had little to fear but each other, and the lower levels pointed at something that was not orchestrated by Wraith hands. 

Each room was empty and her ears popped under the heavy stillness. It was only hope that made her wonder if anyone got out alive. Living with Wraith, knowing them, caused a sadness to tie her heart into a knot as every door opened to an empty room.

“Jen?”

Rodney’s panicked whisper shook her from her thoughts as she turned away from the room adjacent from him and John. She answered with a quick “yeah?”

“Wraith eye shine is blue, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

The doorway they stood before, opening into a room too dark for a flashlight to pierce, held six pin points of light: four yellow and two red. The knot that held her heart dropped to her stomach. Whatever, whoever, those eyes belonged to, she didn’t want to see. Those eyes belonged to something that could devastate an entire facility and leaving nothing but painted floors.

“Close it closeitcloseitcloseit.” Jennifer heard herself saying, pitch growing higher as one set of eyes drooped to waist level. As it slid shut two thumps came from the other side. Backing away, Jennifer covered her ears to dampen the banging and unearthly howls coming from within that awful room. 

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know Rodney. I don’t exactly want to find out, either. How about we say fuck the ZPM and get the fuck out before we run into more of those things?” John’s voice had begun to lose it’s confidence.

 

There was one last stop on the way out. Wraith being light sensitive, Rodney hoped the facility had gear stocked to help protect eyes and skin from the sun. Jennifer knew enough that skin protectant was something they would certainly have. In dry conditions, their naturally oily skin would begin to dry out, resulting in irritation, and causing an over production of sebum in an attempt to prevent both dryness and sun burn. It, according to Alabaster, was extremely uncomfortable and unattractive. 

Eye protection would be top priority for Wraith if they ventured out. Their reptilian eyes were suited for dark and dim lighting, lighting she had to just get used to on Guide-no, Alabaster’s hive. Alabaster wore black kohl around her eyes to help fight the glare. A habit she picked up from the villagers she once resided with. Although the original purpose had been to prevent snow blindness and reduce the harsh glare of the sea in the day. 

She didn’t want to stay longer than absolutely necessary, and this mini expedition to keep Rodney sun burn free seemed frivolous. Jennifer had lagged behind as she shone her light in each darkened crevice, and stopped paying attention to where her feet led her. Striking what felt like a brick wall jarred her back to reality, and to the confused Wraith standing in front of her. A scream started to rise, but quickly died when she recognized the star burst tattoo and haggard face of Guide.

“What the hell are _you_ doing here?”

“I should ask you the same, Doc-tor Keller.”

The outfit surprised her, more so than his apparent materialization here. The suit appeared to be leather, though it fit snugly over his slender form that way spandex would. A tube that protruded from the suit’s tall collar went into both nostrils and covered the sensory pits. Used to her scrutiny in less than dignified situations, Guide seemed to wait for her to ask the questions that inevitably would come.

Trying to keep the laughter out of her voice, Jennifer asked: “What’s with the stillsuit?”

Jennifer watched his expression become puzzled; how his brows drew down and together, deepening the already engrained lines between them. _Dune_ must not have been on the list of movies or books he had been provided with on the several occasions he had been a “guest” in Atlantis. She figured Rodney would have made him watch the 1984 movie at least once, just so he could argue about the inaccuracies with someone who didn’t know better. So she explained: “It’s a desert suit from a movie.”

The furrowed brows rose and Guide inclined his head. “Now, Fair One, what are you doing here? Not alone, I hope.”

“Oh no, Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay are here too. How did you not pass them?” Guide had long picked up on her shift in referring to Rodney no longer by his first name. He had only asked about it once, and when she declined to talk about it, never brought it up again. 

Guide didn’t respond, but when he began walking, she followed. She heard her companions long before she reached them. When they came into view John leveled his weapon at Guide’s chest in greeting after asking what happened to her.

“Sorry, I must have made a wrong turn.” She said, blushing furiously for the lapse in judgement.

“Yeah, well, I should have been paying more attention to everyone.” He shrugged. The muzzle of the gun bobbed. “Rodney’s in the supply closest trying to squeeze into one of those cat suits, your buddy has on.” 

When John began to interrogate Guide, Jennifer’s mind went to the unknown that lurked in that dark room. _What were those things_? Something that could turn a massive facility into a ghost town in the span of two days, at most, was terrifying. Michael, Lastlight, was dead. She had overseen the cleaning crew that scraped his body off the pier. Perhaps one of his experiments had gotten loose? Of all the people John’s team had ever encountered, Michael had the corner on cruel and unusual. Kolya was a close second.

Apparently Rodney had given up on the suit. When he emerged from the room he was red faced, huffing, and still in his Atlantis uniform. “No luck?” John asked while Rodney zipped up his jacket.

“No luck? I don’t think-what is he doing here?” 

Jennifer watched Guide’s wide nostrils flare. Before he could answer, with what she assumed would be a biting retort, John answered for him: “The big guy just showed up like some horrible parody of Gandalf. So we all can just sit around wait until shit inevitably goes down.”

“I would not advise waiting, Sheppard. Once the sun sets, the temperature will drop below freezing. So unless you wish to spend the night here, I suggest we move soon.” Guide’s voice was friendly, but Jennifer saw the tension that a heavy leather coat and a grin often hid so well. Something worried him, and she wanted to know what it was. 

 

They did not leave immediately, Guide suggested they take as many supplies as they could carry without being encumbered, using a phrase he’d picked up: “better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it.”

Rodney leapt at the chance to have some new Wraith technology, something new to fiddle with, something he would undoubtably attempt to improve. One of the smaller suits was rolled up and wedged in his already bulging pack.

As Jennifer took one of the fine white short cloaks, Guide placed several handfuls of packages in her bag. “Rations,” he explained when he noticed her look of suspicion, “this facility housed younglings.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” His genuine confusion over the sympathy no longer surprised her, but she couldn’t help but feel disappointed after all the time he had spent with humans.

“For this loss. An entire new generation just wiped out, and we don’t even know what happened. There’s no bodies, nothing but those things we locked in that room. I know expressing certain emotions is a weakness for Wraith but-“

“What _things_?”

“I didn’t see. We got the door closed before we could find out.” She said as Guide leaned in. “I don’t exactly want to find out.” Jennifer was still getting used to the Wraith concept of what was considered personal space. His breath was hot and foul, like an old dog’s against her face. She tried not to show her discomfort.

“Can you show me?”

“What about Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay?”

Guide shook his head and stood as Jennifer began to protest. She couldn’t leave them here, make them wait, while she and Guide went on a side mission that had the potential to end in both of their demise. “No. No sneaking, not this time. We all go together or you’ll just have to find it by yourself. What if something happens to us; to them?”

It was an intimidating sight when he drew himself up and bared his teeth in frustration at her stubbornness. Seeing him angry no longer frightened her. When it concerned her, Guide was just an old lizard full of hot air. He turned abruptly and left. Outside she could hear John question him before he leaned into the doorway.

“Hey, leave the packs. We’re going to show him where those things were.”

“Why are we leaving the packs?” Rodney asked, lifting his head from the tangle of spare cables he had surrounded himself with.

“Who’s going to steal them, Rodney?”

“Good point.” Still, he lingered before stuffing his pockets with a couple of ration packs and slipping a life sign detector around his wrist. 

Guide got what he wanted. He always did in some form. “Are you not curious?” He asked her, falling into step beside her. “Something that could lay waste to my species. I was certain Colonel Sheppard would want to know more.”

“He doesn’t hate you, you know. Yeah, you can be tough to get along with, and you never give the whole truth, but I think he likes your company when you don’t want anything. Plus the war is practically over with, Waterlight rules, and takes council with Teyla and Alabaster. So there’s really no point in trying to stir shit up again. Not when we’re so close to a symbiotic relationship. All of our hard work would just be a waste.”

“There are still those who will resist.”

“There will always be people who resist change. It’s just something we’ll all have to deal with when it happens.” She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “The progress we’ve made in such a short time is amazing.”

“Still, you have your doubts about the consent involving the Worshipper colonies, and those who are Hive bound. You do not hide your disapproval well, Jennifer.”

“Because they’re servants. It’s like testing new drugs on inmates back on Earth. The consent is questionable because there’s always the chance that the warden has coerced them, or threatened them into it. It’s the same here. Who’s to say that the Wraith which owns that Worshipper gave them a choice? That’s what I have a major problem with. I mean, it’ll save them trouble in the long run, so their _lord_ or lady doesn’t drain them dry, but still…”

“The good it will do in the future will outweigh the negative.”

“I guess, but it still bothers me. Most of your Hive treats me like a Worshipper, and the Worshippers treat me like I’m a leper.”

“A what?”

“Leper, it’s-“

“Hey, you two love birds, we’re here.” John’s grin was tense. She could see how white his knuckles were as they gripped the p90. “Although if you want to get a kiss in before we inevitably get ripped to shreds, by all means, I don’t mind waiting.”

Jennifer could practically feel Rodney’s frown, and Guide was rigid beside her as her ears grew hot with embarrassment. What John suggested was a major taboo amongst Wraith, and akin to beastiality. “He’s joking,” she whispered before nodding at the Colonel. 

“Let’s just get it over with. I don’t like standing here wondering how quick it’ll be before I die.” Rodney muttered to the device on his wrist, frowning at the display. “Damn thing,” he cursed, “it’s not showing anything but us.”


	3. Guide

Colonel Sheppard, Doctor McKay, and the Fair One, Jennifer, were radiating fear before the doorway. Only one of the three had the capability to conceal it. He had a suspicion as to what caused the devastation, but as of yet, found no concrete evidence to back his theory. There were no prints, no bodies to examine, just an empty facility where younglings once played in the halls. Jennifer had been wrong in her assumption; he did know sadness, but she did not yet understand how such emotions were shared or expressed. He could not expect her to, given her short time aboard his daughter’s Hive.

The door before them stretched open into blackness, amidst sucked in breath. “Step aside,” he said to Sheppard in passing.

“By all means, be my guest.” Was the snippish reply, from John, who’s poor vision would be a hindrance.

Once the black swallowed him, faint blue began to outline the room, bringing into detail, a sharp single toned picture. Sensory pits allowed him to distinguish living beings from the inanimate, however nothing lived in this room. There was no brightness, only the dull throbbing blue of stillness. The acrid odor of something not Wraith was strong enough to cause his eyes to water, and was strongest by the main ventilation duct. Jennifer’s claim was true, there had been something here, and something clever enough to find a way out.

Emerging to two black metallic muzzles pointed at his chest, Guide only shook his head: “Whatever you had seen is gone.”

“How? We locked them in?” Rodney’s voice grated in his mind. He still made habit of using both, Quicksilver’s and Rodney’s, it left Guide with a dull ache behind his eyes.

“Maybe they figured out how to open doors,” John suggested, and Guide managed to catch the reference to the film that he had previously been forced to sit through. It was on the day the Atlanteans called “ _christmas_ ”. Alabaster had insisted on his presence. 

“God I hope not, but that looks like the only alternative to simply vanishing.”

Closing the door was a useless gesture, but he said nothing as his three companions readied themselves to leave. He wondered if it made the feel more relaxed knowing that door was shut? In his experience, he found most humans did not like what they couldn’t see, and in closing the door, eliminated the blackness. Guide looked down when Jennifer’s hand grasped his upper arm. Her blunt nailed fingers dug into the suit’s thick skin.

“At the end of the hall,” she whispered, loud enough that both John and Rodney heard. Accordingly, p90’s swung in the direction she had indicated. There a single burning red orb glowed, just above his eye level. It flickered, winking out for a second before reappearing. 

“One of the things we saw had red eyes,” Jennifer said to him. He felt a pull on his arm as she began to step behind him. The flat of her right hand pressed against his spinal ridge, sending an involuntary shudder along it’s length. “I can live happily not knowing what they are. _Please_ can we go?”

“T-Guide, can you take Doctor Keller to the lower deck?”

“Would it not be wiser to travel together, Sheppard?”

“Shit, yeah, but call me crazy; I kinda want to know what we might be up against.”

Rodney had backed up until he was within arm’s reach. Guide felt encumbered, both by Jennifer clinging so tightly, and Rodney blocking the path of gunfire. Only Sheppard had a clear shot available, and Guide did not want to risk causing injury to his companions, for the sake of the already strained alliance. His other option was physically moving Rodney, which again opened a risk to his own personal safety. Given that Rodney was on his right, and Jennifer held his off hand, it left his feeding hand free. Rodney or Sheppard could consider his reaching out as a threat. It was not an ideal situation: an unknown being at the end of the hall, too far for his night vision to properly identify it as anything other than a blue tinted blur with a single red pin point; and the risk of getting himself shot in the process of defending against what seemed to be inevitable attack.

When the thing, the creature, began to step forward, Guide tensed. The option of self preservation was one he did not wish to consider. While he could spin a tale as to how three of Atlantis’s personnel were killed, Alabaster would eventually know the truth. His daughter did enjoy Jennifer’s company.

As the unknowable stepped into the light, Guide heard Jennifer’s sudden sharp intake of breath. “That thing is-was a Wraith,” and her assumption rang true. There was no mistaking the tattoos, the beard that hung below that long, fang filled maw, nor the shredded remains of a blade’s underclothing.

Something had injured it. One side of its face was torn away, glistening and wet in the light. 

“Guide, start towards the transport, keep Jennifer safe. Rodney, you got my back?”

“Oh fuck...y-yeah, I got it.”

Gun fire deafened him as he pulled the woman along. His stunner left in the holster at his waist, it seemed that it would be ineffective against such a monstrosity. Into the transporter, ears ringing, he waited with Jennifer tucked behind him as Rodney and John both backed into the cramped space. The blades hidden in the suit gave little comfort.

The creature was charging at full speed. Black blood seeped from new wounds that peppered its grotesque form. It leapt at them in a final effort to make its kill, only to fall dead as it reached the doors. It’s breath rattled and died as the body stilled. Long arms ending in talons stretched before it, gripping Sheppard’s ankle. Guide watched as he kicked the appendage loose. 

“What the hell…” Rodney whispered.

 

In the shock and sudden stillness of he moment, the urgency to exit the facility seemed to dissipate amongst his human companions. Guide felt the press and bump of Jennifer moving from behind him, her small hand brushed against his thigh as she squatted next to the corpse. “This is amazing,” he heard her mutter. 

“It just tried to kill us, amazing isn’t exactly a word I’d use to describe it.” Rodney could not hide the bitterness that radiated outward and into his voice.

“I’m not saying it’s amazing amazing, but look at it. This thing used to be a Wraith, but now…Jesus. I mean, look at the bone structure. Even when Ellia transformed, there wasn’t this much alteration to her basic form. Carson’s autopsy report showed that she still had five finger bones on each hand. Look at the size of the skull, it’s massive. The core structure has completely transformed.”

Guide frowned, leaning over her to better look at the beast. The skull was in deed large, the arms almost comically elongated, but the legs were roughly the same length. It was the feet that changed, stretching so that it moved on it’s toes in digitigrade fashion. Behind it, beginning where the prominent spinal ridge ended, a long, hairless tail curled. 

Jennifer produced a pen from her back pocket and lifted it’s thin upper lip to reveal needle sharp teeth. “The molars are gone. See the empty sockets at the rear of the jaw?” 

“Look, Jenn, as cool as this is, we need to get going before more of those things show up, because I’m not sure that we have enough bullets for more than a few.”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, yeah. Sorry, let me get a few photos and a scan first.” She shook her hands and gave a tight lipped smile. 

Both Guide and John pushed the remains out of the transport so the doors could close once Jennifer completed her task. Rodney, naturally, refused to touch the creature out if fear of contagion. The skin was oily and still warm against his palms when he pressed against it. Guide wondered if regeneration had begun, if that creature would rise in several hours, days, months later. Unless monitored, there was no way of truly knowing if it was dead or had gone into a hibernative state to conserve energy.

Discomfort sat heavy between his shoulders. Never had he encountered anything like this. Even the more monstrous of Lastlight’s creations had been explainable. Their structure and behavior was identifiable. This, this was new. A Wraith, who, more than likely, had been just as he not three days ago, was now that misshapen, bullet riddled creature. 

“Did your hive pick up the distress signal?” Sheppard asked as they stepped out to the main floor.

“Yes.”

“And you came, alone, with no backup?”

With a dismissive snort, Guide waved the question away. Suspicion from John was not new, and he did not want to waste the energy on explaining why he came.

 

Jennifer, Sheppard, and Doctor McKay discussed their options as they began the make their way back towards the entrance of the facility. Guide only half listened, absorbing enough of their conversation to nod when it was appropriate. They talked out their plan of action. Quicksilver could provide the details later, if he needed any further detail. Although the prospect of having Doctor McKay’s shouting voice rattling in his skull, was not something he particularly looked forward to.

What concerned at the present was the impossibility of the creature that lay in a bloody heap a floor above. To his knowledge, only certain fungal infections and tumors could cause such disfigurement in humans. Wraith had not encountered anything so devastating until the new Atlanteans arrived and set off a chain reaction of catastrophe. However, this monstrosity’s basic form had been completely altered, as Jennifer pointed out. The creature, he, in that Guide recognized the unfortunate Wraith: Firstlight; Lastlight’s elder brother of the same Queen and Consort pairing. 

Moon Over Clouds had been long dead, outlived by only the last of her offspring. Now, only Regret remained, her Consort, once fondly called Swiftblade. Rumors of a cursed lineage spread widely enough that he lost not only his position as standing Consort and advisor, but his place in the Hive he and his Queen built. After seeing the monstrosity that had once been a proud blade and a valued mind, Guide found himself pondering the legitimacy of such a rumor. 

Silently berating himself for the foolish thought, he’d hardly the time to notice Sheppard signal for them to halt. Fortunately his position at the rear of the group prevented witnesses to the stumble. _You are getting old_ , the thought haunted him. 

Jennifer, turned to glance up at him with an unrecognizable expression. Guide tilted his head, masking confusion with concern. Despite the wealth of knowledge accumulated in the years he’d survived, there were still mysteries he wished to know, and Jennifer was a key, a catalyst, to unlocking so much for his species. Convincing From Dust would be the largest hurdle for his alliance. To date, she possessed the largest territory, not in size, but population. The three most plentiful Worshipper colonies were under her finely taloned hand. Inoculating those humans would be a great victory for their mutual cause.

“There’s someone in there.” Jennifer’s whisper drew him from his thoughts into what is. What will be and what has been must wait for a less precarious situation. Guide noted her frequency of stating of the obvious when in his company as something to inquire about at a later time, in better company.

Indeed, some being was in the supply room. The rustle of fabric and the sharp, crisp, teeth clenching sound of a zipper being pulled was audible from his position. As Sheppard moved into position, Guide slipped past Quicksilver when the Colonel signaled for him with a wave of his hand. It was against his nature to leave Jennifer practically defenseless. Quicksilver was no blade, he would not instinctively put himself before his Queen. 

The stunner was light in his hand, and the blade cool against his forearm, hidden beneath the black rubbery skin covering all but his face.

“On three, big guy.”

“On three.”

Short nailed, thick fingers ticked down the time. Guide hesitated when Sheppard sprang towards the open door, long enough to ensure his own safety. When his companion was not attacked, nor fired the p90 that now pointed towards the floor, Guide slid into position at the narrow entryway.

Crouched, frozen, over the bags of supplies was a female Wraith; young, just out of her adolescence, and still shedding her fruit fed fat. Her hair was roughly shorn, shorter than even Sheppard’s military crop. The protective suit was only partially secured, having been caught in the midst of her haste.

The muzzle of the p90 bobbed as Sheppard ordered her to stand with her hands visible. Guide watched her eyes dart between the weapon and himself. It must be odd company to bear witness to. It was odd company to be a part of. 

_~Do not be frightened by him. Keep your palms open and at your sides. He will not fire.~_ Guide assured her, and held his breath as he waited for her reaction.


	4. Jennifer

So focused on the hallway that stretched ahead, Jennifer hadn’t noticed Rodney slipped back several paces until she stretched her arm out to warn him of footsteps. The pistol was heavy in her hand in comparison to the stunner that pressed against her low back, tucked away in her pants. Silence rang in her ears as she strained to listen for any sign of trouble.

Was silence good or bad? On Bright Venture she had grown used to it. When Wraith spoke to one another it was predominately telepathic. Guttural growls, clicks, and chirps were used for emphasis and to express the emotion behind whatever they were saying. It had been jarring to hear Alabaster produce sounds just as deep and rumbling as the men she surrounded herself with. However, Alabaster and Guide would make an effort to speak for both her sake and the sake of the two men who rarely left their Lady’s side.

The held breaths were released when both Sheppard and Guide came into view. Between them walked a slim figure. Once they got close enough that the darkness no longer obscured their features, Jennifer saw their company was a Wraith female. Despite her head crowning just over Sheppard’s, she appeared small and drawn into herself. Even her short time living in a Hive, this struck her as odd. Queens had presence and power behind them. Even 5’3” Teyla acting as Steelflower dwarfed all of Guide’s 6’6” while at his side. 

“Our friend here was looking for supplies.” Sheppard said, nodding toward the girl. 

The girl didn’t look much older than Death had on the autopsy table. However, while Death’s hair had been long, shining, and well kept; this girl had a head of roughly cut hair, short as a fuse, dull with red dust, and clumped with dirt and dried blood. Like a lifeline, she lingered close to Guide even as Sheppard moved away.

“Well, Doctor Keller, it’s time to do your thing. Make sure she’s healthy…not carrying any pointy things that can kill us, just the basics.” He said, voice low.

“I’d really rather get out of here before I have to pat her down. At least out there we can see if anything is coming for us.”

“I’m with Jen- _Doctor_ Keller.” Rodney muttered from her left.

Putting on her best friendly face, Jennifer approached Guide and the female when Sheppard agreed with the plan and began gathering their belongings. “Hello,” she greeted the long faced woman. This close, Jennifer could see three still healing gashes. Green tinged, puffy scars ran from her smooth brow, across her cheekbone before vanishing into the high neckline of the suit. 

“This is,” Jennifer waited while Guide paused to find the proper translation of the image and scent of her name, “Ash. She is the only known survivor of the attack.”

“It was a deliberate attack?”

“Yes,” Ash responded. Her voice was surprisingly rich and husky. “They tunneled in from the lower level, not far from where we keep our feeding stock. Scouts came first to focus our guard and weaken the points of entry. They-” she stopped, visibly upset and bared her teeth. Jennifer glanced back to find both Sheppard and Rodney listening. “None of the children survived. The blades were taken out first. There was no one _competent_ to protect them.”

Jennifer could only offer a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry. And I’d ask if you wanted to come with us, but it doesn’t look like you have much of a choice in the matter. So, um, has Guide introduced you to us?”

Ash nodded. “You are Doctor Jennifer Keller of Atlantis, Fair One amongst the Wraith. He is Colonel John Sheppard, Guide and Consort to Atlantis. The last is Doctor Rodney McKay, Quicksilver, and cleverman.” Her brows were up, seeking approval.

“You got it. Well, I’m glad you’re here, despite the circumstances.”

 

At Sheppard’s command, packs secure, they exited through the still open entryway and stepped into the hot, dry air. The sun had dropped behind the facility, casting long shadows across the dunes. 

“We’ll bring her back to Atlantis and find out what the hell happened.” John said, falling in beside her as they tried to put as much distance between them and the haunting facility.

“I’m sure Alabaster will take her in long enough to find a hive of her own. I know Guide is all for expanding his influence, so she’ll be an important piece in his game.” She watched Rodney quicken his pace to get closer to Ash. Despite trying to cover her frown by wrapping the protective cloak around her head, it was still difficult to hide her disapproval. At least her neck was warm.

John nodded, either unaware or willfully ignoring her reaction, “Yeah. Well, we’ll keep her long enough to gain some intel, get her on our side before Guide can get ahold of her. I’m sure Teyla will want to speak with her.”

“Look, I think she just needs to have some space right now. Everyone she’s ever known were just wiped out by monsters. I still don’t know how Wraith grieve, but however they do, she needs it. John, I think, and I’m sorry, but I really think it’s best that she goes to Bright Venture first. She’ll be more receptive in a familiar setting. We can still get Teyla to speak with her, but she’d be better off overall on a hive rather than in an alien environment.” She shrugged, “Plus Darling has been asking about seeing Torren again.”

“You’re the expert, Doc.”

 

Then sun was just peeking over the mountain range at their backs. The air was rapidly cooling, and Jennifer watched the puffs of steam billow from their mouths and nostrils. Only Guide and Ash seemed unaffected. Their slow metabolism and lower body temperature left them expelling only faint trails.

“We will not reach the gate before nightfall,” Guide told Sheppard in a tone of annoyance.

At his back, Rodney shivered, tugging his jacket tighter around him. “How far?”

“Far enough that you will freeze before reaching it.”

Ash hung close to Jennifer, alternating between her and Guide. She never spoke, nor looked up from the downcast gaze she had settled in when their trek began. Cautiously, Jennifer reached out and touched her shoulder. She knew touch could transfer emotions amongst Wraith, and hoped the sympathy was welcome. 

“Why does he shout?” Ash asked, looking at her for the first time since leaving the facility. Jennifer could see the dark rings under her eyes, and wondered when she last fed.

“Who?”

“Quicksilver,” she tilted her head towards Rodney. “He shouts everything before he speaks.”

“Oh, um, I’m not exactly sure. He was turned into a Wraith on Death’s ship, and the telepathy just sort of stuck around. I think it might be because he’s having trouble transitioning.” She frowned at the memory of Rodney openly flirting with Alabaster and Sam prior to their breakup. “Some of the habits he picked up on the hive must have remained.”

“Well someone needs to teach him to control his volume.”

“I’m sure Guide would have mentioned it.”

Ash snorted, “He finds it amusing.”

“I’m sure he’d listen to you.”

Ash smiled and turned to face Guide, who Jennifer now saw had stopped. He stood on the crest of the dune ahead, a slim black figure in the rapidly dying light. Colonel Sheppard followed, and together they vanished over the edge. Rodney lingered as they caught up, “Guide found a place to stay warm for the night,” he explained, unable to mask the bitterness at the prospect.

Legs burning, Jennifer puffed beside Ash. Did the Wraith alter her gait for her sake? The young female’s feet barely sunk into the fine sand. She was certain that Ash could have reached the crest of the dune and made it down the other side before Jennifer could reach the top. 

Behind them Rodney complained about the risks of staying overnight. At the moment she didn’t care. She just wanted to be able to sit down and rest for a second. Her feet throbbed in the military issued boots with the too thick socks. She just wanted a moment to not worry about monsters, and speak with Guide in private.

Jennifer slid down the steep slope to the valley where Sheppard and Guide waited. Pointed stones stood upright around the entrance to a cave. Scraggily vegetation grew around the base of those red stones, full of thorns and stickers.

“Jenn,” Sheppard pulled her to the side, “when we get settled in, check with the big guy. See if he knows anything about what we saw.”

“Alright, but I don’t think I can get him to talk if he doesn’t feel like it.” She sighed and watched as Ash followed Rodney into the cave. “But I don’t think he knows much, if anything, about what we saw.”

“It’s just a precaution. You never know what the old bastard might be hiding.”

She laughed and couldn’t argue. Guide, at best, was a Machiavellian mastermind who could put Littlefinger to shame. Jennifer knew they were all pieces in his game, accepted that, and was glad that he considered them allies. With his intimate knowledge of Atlantis and the glimpses of Earth, he would make a horrifying enemy. 

“I’ll do what I can, but I won’t guarantee you anything will come of it.”

She and Sheppard joined the others in the dark tunnel that opened into a small vestibule. Guide had ventured ahead, as he required no light to scout for potential dangers. Rodney was swinging his flashlight around the antechamber. The light glittered on the damp red walls.

“There is a water source further in.” Ash suddenly spoke. “He can detect no signs of sentient life.”

“Welp, let’s get settled in.” Sheppard waved for Rodney to venture in the direction Guide had taken. They needed to restock their supply of drinkable water, and the filter would take thirty minutes to fill each pack. 

Jennifer found Guide resting against one of the moisture slick walls in a small grotto just off the main chamber. His legs outstretched and his chin propped on his chest, Jennifer would have thought him asleep until he grunted in acknowledgement of her presence. Somewhat familiar with his varied moods, she took it as an invitation to sit.

With Sheppard on first watch, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. 

 

Jennifer had not been aware that she had fallen asleep until startled awake by an indignant yelp. When she opened her eyes to darkness, fear gripped her when the yelp was followed by an angry hiss and the clatter of rocks.

Instinctively she reached out where Guide had been and swiped at nothing. Her nails raked the floor, causing one to bend backwards. “Shit,” she grimaced through clenched teeth. Fumbling for her pack, Jennifer blindly felt around for her flashlight.

When an oily hand grabbed her wrist, another closed over her mouth, to cut off her scream. 

“Quiet,” she heard Guide whisper close to her left ear. His breath ruffled the hairs that had fallen loose from her braid. “Part of the ceiling has collapsed.”

“Are we trapped?” She asked, her voiced muffled by his off hand. Turning her head, she tried to free her nose from being mashed by his thumb only to end up with the tip of his claw up one nostril.

“Temporarily, yes. However, we are not alone.”

Whether he noticed her discomfort or something only he could see in the blackness, Guide finally lifted his hand from her mouth. Reaching up, Jennifer rubbed at her nose and fought the tickle of a building sneeze. “What do you mean, not alone?” Her voice broke as it wavered. 

In the silence she could only imagine the exasperated expression on his face as the slightly darker bulk of Guide moved to her right. The blue glow from his eyes narrowed to slits and vanished as he turned his head away from her. 

Feeling around she found his wrist and held tight. His body tensed and she felt rather than heard the low rumble of a warning growl against his back. Jennifer held her breath when two pin points of red flashed in front of them. In the darkness she couldn’t tell how close it was. Next to her, Guide shook her grasping hand free. His elbow bumped her side while reaching for the stunner at his hip.

Ahead the red eyes blinked and responded to his movement with a snarl. It reminded Jennifer of the alligators her father took her to see as a kid when they vacationed in Orlando: a deep, almost reptilian gurgle. The ugly face flashed in the blue of stunner fire. Taloned hands flew up to cover it’s eyes as it screeched. The sound made her stomach clench.

“Fire again,” Jennifer shouted, reaching for the unused pistol still strapped to her belt. 

She fumbled with it as blast after blast lit the room. Each time the creature seemed closer. It’s foul odor filled the chamber, and it’s angry roars rattled her skull. The pistol came free and she fired as the next burst of blue illuminated the beast. The light from the muzzle blinded her. She could only imagine what it did to Guide, as his next shot missed the target and dissipated against the wall of the cave.

Jennifer’s shot, however, did not miss. The creature yelped like an injured dog, followed by the sound of stones clattering against the floor. “Is it gone?” She wheezed as dust filled her mouth and nose.

“Yes,” Guide said after a moment. She could tell he was blinking rapidly to clear his vision. “Come now,” his hand gripped her forearms, pulling her upright. “We need to find your companions.”

_Before it does,_ remained unspoken, but sat heavy over them both as they began shifting the stones that blocked the path to the main chamber. 

Jennifer hadn’t noticed another passage in the area where she and Guide had settled to rest. She had picked his position, furthest from the group, to avoid having to bear witness to Rodney’s inevitable flirting with Ash once he returned from filling the canteens. She knew Alabaster had referred to him, _Quicksilver_ , as handsome. Whether she was humoring Rodney or not, Jennifer wasn’t sure, but it only encouraged him. Not that it bothered her. They had parted ways, after all. She just wished he wouldn’t do it in front of her. 

Sheppard’s order to glean any knowledge played a smaller factor in the decision. At least it would function as a better excuse if Guide began to question why she chose not to associate with her companions. 

Not wanting to risk using her flashlight to alert the monster to their presence, it was left in her pack. As the stones became more difficult to move, she decided to back off and let Guide work without her getting in the way. It wasn’t as if she had been much help to begin with while she had blindly tried to grasp at invisible stones.

Jennifer held onto the belt around Guide’s waist with one hand, as the other gripped the handle of her pistol tightly. Her hands were becoming so sweaty that she feared she would drop it. She hoped that there would be no reason to use it.

Every sound made her heart flutter as Guide moved stones too heavy for a human to manage. The grumbling, grunting and huffs of his exertion were becoming more frequent. Jennifer wondered when he had last fed as she looked over her shoulder into nothing, expecting horrible red eyes staring back at her. How she envied his night vision then. Even the sounds Guide was obviously making made her feel jittery. 

“What if they’re dead?”

“We do not know their fate, Fair One. So do not dwell on hypotheticals.” 

Jennifer frowned at the dark outline in front of her. “I’m sorry, but werewolves are on my list of things I never wanted to see. So I’m more than a little worried right now.”

“Werewolves?”

“People that turn into half man and half wolf monsters. They’re folklore and fairy tales back on Earth. I’m surprised no one has given you a book or movie with them in it.”

“Vampire novels tended to be the popular choice amongst my guards.” 

Jennifer couldn’t help but grin. Beside her she felt Guide return to his task of clearing the path. It was slow, tedious work for him. She could imagine how difficult it must be trying not to cause the loose stones to collapse onto them both, and have her hanging onto his belt. She did not expect him to stumble, however, and found herself wedged between his chest and the cave wall.

Her bangs fluttered with his labored breath. “Guide, when was the last time you fed?”

“It does not matter.”

“Uh, yeah, it does. I don’t want you falling out, leaving me here in the dark with a god damned monster running around.” She reached up and unzipped the collar of her shirt, “I’ll be fine. Take as much as you need to get us all out of here.”

His answering snort puffed in her face, “I can manage, however, it will be difficult to do as you ask if I am burdened by having to carry you.” 

“Burdened?” She answered hotly.

“I suppose Doctor McKay or Colonel Sheppard would be willing to carry you the distance between our location and the gate?”

He had a point. She really hated to admit it, but he did. “Fine. Just,” she awkwardly patted his chest, “just be careful.” When she looked up her nose brushed against his thin lips. Jennifer had not realized how close he was until she was able to make out the wide, rounded pupils amidst the blue glow of his eyes. It was futile to know exactly what went on in his mind. She still wondered the motive behind how close he remained. Surely he'd have regained his balance by now, if he insisted that he was well enough not to require feeding.  She'd never seen him look at her so intently. Unsure of how she should act, Jennifer went with her instinct and kissed him.

Her upper lip was caught between his and she felt a light scraping of his teeth before his body tensed and she was left with empty air in front of her. She couldn’t see where he had gone and reached forward, grasping at nothing. “Guide?” She'd breeched a major taboo. What she'd done was something that repelled even the most liberal of Wraith. Had she misjudged his intent, and found the extent of his tolerance?

“Bring your light.” His response was to her right, where the rocks had fallen, where the monster had been.

“I-it’s in my pack. I can’t see where it is.”

Foot steps scratched the gravel and debris on the floor as he moved past her. She wanted to ask why he’d moved so quickly, but immediately was blinded when the flashlight shone in her face. She shielded her eyes with an indignant “fuck” as Guide swung the beam over to the passageway he had nearly cleared.

There, a body lay. The head was a pulpy mess of blood and brain matter, but the pale green tinted skin tone was unmistakable: this had been a Wraith. Panic rose as she hurried over, thinking it was Ash. However, long red hair clung to the pieces of the crushed skull, not short brown tufts. “Oh, thank goodness.” She whispered under her breath. “Guide, can you bring some gloves? They’re in the small med kit, front pouch.” _Is this what made Guide pull away so suddenly_ , she wondered.

As Guide approached, he handed her the two nitrile gloves she had asked for and focused the light on the body. What seemed the most out of place was the primitive cut clothing. It looked more like something made by indigenous human hands, or perhaps an unskilled young Wraith. If she was a survivor of the facility, she had been gone long enough to obtain or make her own clothing. Rodney’s borrowed life sign detector had shown no indication of anything in the area.

With the gloves protecting her fingers, Jennifer carefully reached over and tilted the head. The back of the skull had been completely destroyed, however, the face was intact, albeit slightly disfigured from the pressure. The wide open eyes stared at her: one bright yellow, the other milky white. She had been blind on the left side by a scar that ran from her upper lip to her brow. 

The face was almost human, lacking the sensory pits on either side of the nose, the prominent brow ridge, and pronounced cheekbones. When Jennifer lifted the upper lip, human-like incisors were situated between the sharp fangs typical of Wraith. “She’s a hybrid,” Jennifer turned to look back at Guide, finding him bent over her, examining the body just as keenly. “The ears are unusual though. I never saw any of Michael’s creations with ears like this.” She rubbed her thumb over the long pointed tips, clearing the blood. 

“Perhaps she was not of his design.”

“That’s not good, then.” 

“No, it is not.”

The fact that the body was still warm concerned her greatly. Was this the monster she shot? Jennifer swore she heard more rocks fall after the gun fired. Lacking the forensic expertise she needed to determine if the cranial damage had been caused by a bullet or not, Jennifer could only speculate. 


	5. Guide

The bright glow of the still warm body had been a welcome distraction from his own body betraying his conflicting emotions. Brilliant purples and oranges swirled around the back of the skull. One of two theories came to mind and neither sat well in the growing knot between his shoulders. Guide hoped it was the former: an adolescent from the facility who met an unfortunate fate during the cave in. If it was the latter, then the infection was spreading to their females; a thought that sat cold in the pit of his stomach.

Behind him Jennifer alternated between swinging the beam of the flashlight around the room and on him. While he was aware of humans and their limited vision, the constant flashing began to wear on his patience. “Do you see any alternate tunnels the creature could have come from?” He asked, hoping to have time to clear his vision and keep the irritation from his voice.

“No. I’ve been looking and I don’t see how it could’ve got in. Guide?”

He hummed a response, not willing to look back. The image of her in the dark still flickered, orange about the cheeks and lips; violet and ultramarine. Guide shook himself away from the thought as the final stones were shifted. It was a steep incline, however, the opening he had made at the top was wide enough that even he could easily squeeze through. 

“Guide?”

“Yes?” His answer may have given away his impatience, but Jennifer was looking at the corpse, not him. “What is it, Jennifer?”

“It’s moving…. Guide, oh god, _it’s moving_.”

In the harsh white light Guide watched the blood spattered arm twitch. Long, taloned fingers scratched at the sandy floor. A rattling, hollow breath gasped as the corpse struggled to rise onto all fours. Brain matter dripped from the brilliant red hair as the thing’s head swiveled to face them. 

The wet pops deep from within the body caused his extremities to go cold. A ghost of a memory surfaced from the depths where Snow slept and Death’s blazing eyes bore into his soul. Guide was afraid when blood shot yellow eyes met his. Hatred flared behind them as the round pupils burned from within, narrowing to slits as the nose crinkled and the thinning lips lifted in a snarl.

Jennifer asking what they should do fell on deaf ears. On uneven ground and his back to a corner, Guide had nowhere to go. When the gunshots rang, jarring him from paralysis, he was grateful before the intense embarrassment replaced it. The thing collapsed in a contorted heap of elongated limbs and leathery gray skin. The claws of it’s feeding hand were outstretched, reaching toward them. 

“ _Fuck_.” Jennifer gasped. He could see how badly her hands shook, the muzzle if her pistol quivered red hot in the dark. The flash light lay at her feet, the beam focusing on the once again motionless body. He could smell charred flesh, fear, and a loosed bladder. Guide could not find disdain, not after the humiliation of freezing. _You old fool_.

He watched as she fumbled in her jacket for the camera she had tucked away. Edging closer and ever brave in her quest for knowledge, Jennifer snapped several photos of the corpse. Guide wondered if it was truly dead as the smooth, sloped brow oozed thick blood from the bullet wound. “She was changing.” Jennifer said, and Guide assumed it was more to herself than to him. 

His instincts screamed to stay away from the unspeakable thing, but curiosity won. The thing, curled in on itself, was a terrible sight. While the strangeness of it prior to its reanimation was remarkable, now it was a beautiful abomination. The neck had thickened to merge seamlessly from the base of the skull to the shoulders. Red hair had begun to recede from the scalp downward to the back of the neck. 

“We should go,” Jennifer spoke up at last. He felt her nervousness and could only agree. Her companions needed to be accounted for. Together his chance of survival until dawn would be more favorable.

Guide inclined his head and let Jennifer make the climb first. She was more likely to slip, so remaining behind to prevent any damage to her and to the work he put into their escape was paramount. In deed she did slip, but caught herself before undoing any of the progress. Guide couldn’t help but smile at her determination. Rarely asking for help typically led her to precarious situations, but Guide couldn’t fault her for it. It was a trait common in the more noteworthy Queens. 

When she vanished over the top of the passage, Guide made to follow. Ahead a shout of “We’re over here,” echoed as the answering: “It’s good to see you, Doc” followed shortly behind. Carefully he kicked enough of the loose stones downward, watching as the still brilliantly glowing blue corpse was snuffed out by the darker blue of the stones. When he dropped down to he other side Jennifer and Sheppard were waiting. “Where is Doctor McKay and Ash?”

“I don’t know. Last I saw he was showing Ash the modifications he made to the life sign detector. Apparently he got it to pick up those creatures.” John swung his own flashlight around the main chamber. “The rear passage is blocked off. I’ve checked outside and there’s noting but ice and sand. Ash might be able to survive that weather, but it’d take a pretty damn dire situation to get Rodney out there.”

“Werewolves aren’t dire enough?” Jennifer asked, her laugh couldn’t hide how shaken she was.

“This _is_ Rodney. I think he’d rather take his chances with a space werewolf than being uncomfortable.”

Jennifer shrugged. “Well, it looks like our only option is to clear that passage.”

 

"Why did Doctor McKay leave the main chamber?" Guide asked, masking the strain of moving a particularly heavy stone with an air of annoyance. 

“Well, he was working on that life signs detector,” Sheppard wheezed and paused and put his hands on his knees. “ _God damn_ ,” he cursed and straightened. “He fiddled with it until he thought that maybe it’ll pick up those creatures. They didn’t show up in the facility. Ash got up and told us she was going to get some water. We heard her yelp, and Rodney bolted right for her. Whole knight in shining armor mode. Then shit went down. By the time the dust cleared, I was stuck here. Didn’t know if you or Jenn were dead. Hell, I thought maybe I was dead.”

Guide snorted, “Dead and fully aware of your surroundings?”

“Yeah. Thought I might have been in hell, but then I realized that you weren’t there.”

Guide could only laugh. 

Behind them Jennifer spoke as she held the light for Sheppard’s benefit. “Maybe it’s karma,” she suggested. It was a reference Guide was able to understand due to Lieutenant Mahmud, who patiently explained Sikhism to him. Their concept of reincarnation had greatly intrigued him at that time, being similar to a belief held by the older generations.

“Damn it,” Sheppard hissed at his side, pulling his hand away from the stones. His fingers dribbled blood. In the poor lighting, Guide could see the nail on his forefinger had been torn away. 

So easily injured, the safety of his companions was becoming more of a concern. Their survival affected his own well being. He could detect none of his kind in the area, other than Ash’s faint presence. Unconscious or asleep, he could not discern, as the task of clearing the passage had required a great deal of attention. 

While this tunnel had not been completely sealed, the stones here were smaller and more prone to collapsing. Not relishing the thought of being buried under dust and stone, Guide found himself regretting his decision to come alone. Alabaster’s warning sat on his shoulders like ill fitted armor. 

While Sheppard was being tended to by Jennifer, he pressed against the quiet, barren volcanic field of Ash’s mind. When she did not respond immediately, he sent out a sharp calling mental pulse, often used by parents calling their younglings. Her mind flared angrily in response. _Asleep_ , he frowned. 

~Where are you?~ he asked.

~Near the spring. I was trapped and hungry, so I conserved my strength.~

Guide glared at the partially opened passage. ~ You did not think to call for myself or Doctor McKay?~

Silence answered him. Ash had closed her mind to him, a wall of molten rock prevented him from prying. _Where is Quicksilver?_ Ash was the last person to be seen with him. The thought of her unable to control her hunger was one that Guide did not wish to dwell upon, but was a very real possibility. Ash was young.

Not wanting to alert his companions to the possible fate of their friend, Guide threw himself into clearing the passage. The soft snip of scissors cutting through gauze let him know that Jennifer was nearly finished with Sheppard. 

Ignoring the unpleasant sensation of the gravel against his feeding slit, Guide used his claws to rake the loose debris back. When his finger tips grew wet he stopped. Lifting his hand he regarded red stained talons. Immediately he drew back, nostrils flared in alarm at the sight that greeted him. _No_ , he shook his head. 

The heel of his boot caught on a stone and he stumbled backwards. This brought the attention of Sheppard and Jennifer. Jennifer’s “are you alright?” was muffled by the pounding in his ears. 

“Colonel Sheppard,” he chose his words carefully. A misstep could place his life at risk. “I believe you should identify what-who is buried there.” He inclined his head toward the divot he had created.

“What the hell do you mean “ _who_ ”?” Sheppard asked, walking over, “Guide, I-” silence fell like a blanket over them all. “No. God damn it no,” he shouted.

It was in his best interest to stand back. Guide averted his eyes as Sheppard furiously began to uncover the body of Doctor McKay. Jennifer darted past his field of vision toward Sheppard. Fingers flexed and talons bit into his palm. Guide didn’t know what to do, how to act appropriately in the face of human anguish. The loss was unfathomable. Quicksilver had survived against so many odds only to fall to a cave in. A great mind, an arrogant mind, but great none the less snuffed out by happenstance. 

“Guide,” Jennifer’s hands on his upper arms withdrew him from the stupor. “Guide, do something.” Her lovely face was wet and streaked with red dust.

“There is nothing I can do. He is dead, Jennifer.”

“You can give him life, god damn it.” Sheppard cried from his position crouched over his friend.

“Sheppard, I cannot return him. There are some-“

“Bullshit, you nearly killed me. Ronon was brought back from the dead. Zelenka-”

“I would be wasting energy. It is futile to try and revive him from this.” Sheppard came at him, angry, aggressive. “Sheppard! I held him in high esteem. If I could bring him back to this world, I would.” His voice rung out like thunder in the cavern. 

Jennifer shrank back and Sheppard stopped. Seeming to deflate, Sheppard shook his head. “God fucking damn it,” he slung the life sign detector he had retrieved from Rodney’s corpse against the wall. Dropping to his knees, he gripped handfuls of his hair.

Guide looked to Jennifer, who seemed frozen. She stared at the uncovered body with an unreadable expression. 

~Ash?~ he called out.

Guide could only watch as Jennifer held Sheppard, her arms around his shoulders. With her face hidden against the back of his jacket, she remained until the tension left his body. Only prior had he threatened to cause the rockslide to collapse as he kicked furiously at the stones. Dust still clouded the air and stung his eyes. Guide was thankful to have kept the protective nose piece in place, even as he rested.

Movement near where McKay lay drew his attention. There, still casting a hazy blue glow in the darkness, was Ash. He watched her carefully pick her way over the stones, paying close attention as she neared the body. She paused over it, her face void of emotion, before climbing over it and into the main chamber.

Two theories were in place, one of which damned her and left them at risk if she is allowed to remain in their company. Guide would prefer to give her the benefit of the doubt, as several hives in the alliance were still without Queens. She had not known McKay but for a day, had not considered him anything more than an animal that could talk with a means of escape.

~When the stones fell, I thought it wise to conserve my strength.~ She explained as she approached.

~By not alerting me to your location?~

~I assumed you would detect my presence.~ Her response was haughty.

Guide snorted, dismissing her as he turned away to see how his companions were faring. Sheppard had retrieved the life signs detector, brushed the screen and activated it.

“Anything?” Jennifer asked.

“Just us,” Sheppard responded in a hollow voice.

“Look, I’m,” Jennifer had crossed her arms over her abdomen. Guide had noticed this posture correlated to when she wished to be alone. “I’m going to step outside. Just for a bit. Okay?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Sheppard sat heavily onto the floor and leaned his head back against the wall behind him. “Don’t go far,” he then shouted after her. Taking in a sharp breath, Sheppard covered his eyes with one hand. ”I don’t need to lose anyone else on this mission.”

Unsure of what to do in such a situation, having never in his long life experienced a human loss that affected him so, Guide joined Sheppard. While aware that humans typically preferred a Wraith more than an arm’s length away, he positioned himself beside the man he considered an equal. Shoulder to shoulder they sat in silence as Ash sat across from them, curled in on herself.

“We need to get him back to Atlantis. His sister will want to have him buried.”

“How do you propose we move him?”

“Shit, I don’t fucking know, Guide, but we need to get him home.”

“Doctor Beckett or Jennifer should examine him and the other body prior to performing your funerary rites.”

“Why? Wait, _what_ other body?”

“I am certain you heard the gun fire earlier?”

Sheppard rubbed his face vigorously and sighed. “And you suspect something? Of course you do, because when it isn’t you being suspicious, it’s something worse. Yeah, I’ll issue the order for an autopsy when we get off this planet.” He placed his arms over his knees, “Damn, Guide, I have to say, as far as sideways missions go, this is a kick in the gut.”

“I share your sympathies.”

“Bullshit.”

“Sheppard, while my being here was not in your plan, I had no intention of causing any harm to your team. I have held Doctor McKay in high esteem, as have most who have known him. Understand that his death affects myself as well, despite our differences in grief.”

“Look, sorry. It’s just,” the intake of breath Sheppard took wavered. “It’s just surreal. He’s gone. How am I going to explain that to Torren, that his god father isn’t going to come back?”

“I cannot give you an answer to that.”

Together they settled into a heavy silence. The shaking against his shoulder indicated that Sheppard was fighting to remain in control of his emotions. Guide hoped that he could until they reached the gate. While he knew Jennifer was capable of handling herself, having Ash free to do as she pleased did not rest easy with him. Sheppard needed to be aware of what was happening, what could happen.

He looked at Ash’s figure. Although her eyes were closed, her mind was awake, and listening. Her body was tense and he caught the spasm run through her limbs as Jennifer rushed back into the cave.

Cheeks and nose bright pink from the still freezing temperature outside, Jennifer stopped to catch her breath before speaking rapidly: “Atlantis is sending a team. They should be here in less than thirty minutes.” She pushed her bangs out of her eyes, “Your hive has been contacted too. Woolsey said he’d send a message to Bright Venture as soon as they ended the transmission.”

The heavy drone of a personal transport ship greeted him as he stepped outside into the frigid landscape of rusted glass. Once the sun rose over the horizon, the ice would melt and quickly evaporate into the dry air. For now it crunched under his boots as he went to greet his daughter.

Guide could only imagine the opposition she had met prior to making the trip planet side. Bonewhite no doubt would have been the most vocal in arguing for her safety. However, Alabaster had inherited his iron resolute. Rarely did she prefer to remain idle in her Hive awaiting news from messengers.

Uneven steps crackled behind him, heralding Jennifer’s approach. The Atlantis team were gathering the body of Quicksilver for transport. Her reluctance to oversee the task was understandable. “I won’t be going back with them. Other than my mission report, I-I just don’t need to be there. Sheppard gave the okay.”

“And the other body; do you hold no interest in her condition?”

“I do, but Carson is better equipped to examine her. He knows Michael better than anyone, other than Teyla.”

He hummed a response as the slim figure of Alabaster came into view. “And we’re to remain in orbit until Doctor Beckett releases his findings?”

“That depends on Alabaster.” Jennifer responded with a shrug.

Guide nodded. “Ember has requested a short term visit to see his brother.” He said, looking at her wind burnt face and the dark circles that had formed around her eyes to compliment the myriad of bruises she had sustained.He could make those vanish in an instant, but knew she would likely refuse the offer.

“I imagine Darling will want to see Torren. That’s been all he’s talked about lately.”

The though made him smile as he watched Alabaster pick her way carefully over the slick landscape. A prickling at the back of his mind welcomed him as she probed him for any information. The recoil when he presented it to her left him with a sharp pain just over his left temple from her abrupt withdrawal. Quickening steps brought her to stand before Jennifer and himself, ignoring stance and formalities.  
“What has happened?”

“Doctor McKay was killed in a cave in.” Jennifer said. Guide heard the strain in her voice as she fought against grief and self blame.

~Quicksilver’s death and the location of a young female we brought from the facility has cause of suspicion, my Queen. I would request that we follow the Atlanteans until the autopsy is complete.~

Alabaster frowned, placing her off hand on Jennifer’s shoulder. “I am truly sorry for this loss. It will affect both our people.” When Jennifer nodded and quickly turned her head, Alabaster addressed his request: ~I would attend the funeral as well, as is their tradition. Quicksilver’s death is a heavy blow to our alliance, and if there is blame to place, then I would like to find it.~

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story has now caught up to what I have written. The updates will come slower from this point on.  
> If you would like to read the rough drafts early, I post them to my tumblr; with each chapter in three to four sections. Simply search for the tag "Medea SGA", and you should find it.


	6. Alabaster

“How’s Darling?”

Across the room where Steelflower once slept, Alabaster sat before a tray of freshly sliced fruit and two flutes of water. The hammer iron pitcher dripped condensation on the low table. 

Jennifer had not taken her seat for the duration of her visit. She paced; she washed her face in the shallow basin typically reserved for cleaning blood from the feeding hand; she wrapped and unwrapped herself in the fine mauve colored cloth Silvertongue had given her.

“He is as he always has been. Although the closer we get to Atlantis, the more restless he becomes.” The discomfort she felt by leaving her son on Bright Venture while she saw to her guests weighed heavily on her shoulders. She was confident in her two men, and Bonewhite in their ability to keep him safe. However, a mother always worried for their child.

“I wish I could see him before you leave.” Jennifer smiled. There was such a sadness in that expression that Alabaster found herself wanting to replace that cloth and comfort her. Years in the village she had spent alleviating woes by healing the injured and sick. Despair and sadness were afflictions she could not heal with a well placed hand and kind words. It would take time, and while she had an abundance, her human companions did not.

“If the situation allowed for it, I would call for him, however-” Although she knew it was dangerous, if Guide’s suspicions proved true; Alabaster could not deny the selfish want of him at her side, clinging to her skirts as he followed her.

“Oh no, no, sorry. Um, maybe-” Rubbing her forearm, shifting the fabric until it slid off her shoulders, Jennifer finally sat beside her. “Maybe it’s for the best that he doesn’t see me all busted up. I’ll be good as new in a week or so.”

“Guide has told me you refused healing.” Alabaster waved her talons at the puffy bruising across Jennifer’s left cheek, and dark rings around her eyes. “If that is what you mean by “ _busted up_ ”-”

“Yeah, it just seems like such an easy way out. It’s like if I just erase all of _this_ ,” she encircled her face with a finger, “it’s like nothing happened. Like Rodney didn’t…” Jennifer turned her head abruptly.

“I understand.” Cautiously Alabaster placed her off hand on Jennifer’s, where she had them clasped in her lap, fists firmly gripping the cloth. “I have explained to Darling what has happened.”

“H-how’d he take it?” The strain was evident in her voice that she fought against crying in front of her. It was a battle she was failing as her cheeks shone with thin wet streaks.

“As most children do. He does not understand death as an adult, but does know it is a permanent state.”

Wiping at her face with the heel of her palm, Jennifer faced the Queen with a genuine smile. “At least he’s got his time with Torren to look forward to.” She broke eye contact and stared at her lap, at the green-gray hand over her’s. “What about Colonel Sheppard, Ash?”

“I’ve been informed that Colonel Sheppard came to blows with Guide before he was transferred to Bright Venture. Ember and Absolutepatience were able to separate them before my father could take offense.”

The deep sigh blew hot over the top of her off hand as Jennifer exhaled. “He’s blaming Guide?”

“For the moment, yes.” Alabaster lifted her hand from Jennifer’s and plucked a wedge of deep red fruit from the tray. It was a tart, flavorful fruit from a tropical region often visited in her growing territory, and a personal favorite. As she placed it into her mouth and crushed it against the roof with her tongue, she thought of the foods available in Atlantis. Doughnuts were a treat she very much looked forward to eating again, particularly the variety filled with the sweet, dark chocolate cream.

“And Ash?”

“Ash has been given private quarters close to the servant’s deck. They are easily guarded, and the entire level can be sealed off without a hive-wide security alert.” Alabaster did not want the young Wraith to know they watched her, and if she proved an enemy, catching her unaware was preferable. The idea to place her in that particular region had been her’s. Ash would not realize she had been placed in the servant master’s quarters, having never been aboard a hive, and would not take insult.

Picking out a small,white, fleshy fruit, Jennifer turned it over several times. “Do you think Guide is right about her?” She asked, before taking an exploratory bite. 

Waiting until she finished chewing, Alabaster frowned and looked at the woman who she would name sister. “I was not on the mission, so I cannot give an opinion based on evidence. I would rather trust his suspicion than risk my crew, or my friends.”

 

When she left Jennifer, Alabaster searched for her father. His mind was difficult to reach even in the better of his moods, but now she found a void. It was a deep, blank, fathomless hole where he should be. ~ _Father_?~

Silence responded, and she followed it down to the holding area. Just Fortune had yet to receive the inoculations, so the human cargo remained cocooned until they could be transported to a colony. It was not an ideal situation, and one Jennifer greatly frowned upon. It was, however, the only solution at the moment. She did not want her crew starving while they waited, nor did she want resentful humans potentially clashing with the already thinned out crew.

Out of the dusty, blood spattered suit he was found in, Guide had changed into a clean, but well worn coat. As she drew near, Alabaster saw the faint traces of a split lip fading as he finished feeding. “What really happened?”

A dismissive snort answered her, but as she touched his arm, she saw all she needed. Ember’s recount had been very close to the truth. Colonel Sheppard placed sole blame on him for the death of Doctor McKay. While she could not hear the argument that ensued, she did see Sheppard catch Guide off guard with a solid punch to the face. She felt the embarrassment as Ember pulled the human away, and the thinning restraint that would have snapped if Ember had hesitated.

Choosing to not question him as to what exactly sparked the scuffle, or the conversation he blocked from her, Alabaster dropped her hand. “Jennifer will not appreciate you feeding like this. She mentioned that she offered, but you refused.”

“Did she now?”

He was being evasive, and it frustrated her. It was something that Snow would not tolerate. “She did, along with other things.” She caught the brief flare of alarm before he could drown it. “I can understand why she will not be returning to Atlantis, however, I cannot understand why you will not.”

“I do not feel comfortable leaving Ash unattended.”

“You selected enough blades and clevermen to remain just to prevent her from being unattended, and just enough so infection would not be widespread. Your suspicions are not the only reason you remain, Consort.”

“And those reasons are mine, my Queen.” Despite the evenness of his voice, she detected his patience was becoming short. Alabaster could not entirely fault him for his attitude, given what so recently happened. She too felt a sadness in her core. Doctor McKay was not only a loss to their cause, but a loss as a friend. Quicksilver was not a personality that could be replaced. His ego alone was impressive. In all her years, she had not met it’s equal.

Once she returned, Alabaster decided, then it would be better to question him. The funeral and the meeting with From Dust would be behind them. That beautiful face framed by white hair still lingered as the invitation to meet sung in her mind. 

“Have you agreed to any terms?” Guide asked. She had felt the prickling in the back of her mind as he glanced over the memory.

“She would like to meet on her hive.” Alabaster frowned, and allowed him to feel her doubt and fear of the unknown.

“And?”

“No more than those I deem necessary should accompany me.”

“And you agreed? Who do you plan on taking?”

“You, naturally. I have yet to meet another who can see through a farce better than yourself. Oh, do not smirk so, father. However, I wish to bring Jennifer, but… I do not know if it would be a wise decision. If the meeting goes foul, she would be placed in danger. We cannot afford to lose her. Not this early in the alliance. Everything we have worked for-“

“Would collapse beneath our feet and swallow us all. I know, daughter.” His hand was warm against her shoulder. “Bringing Jennifer would be dangerous. The risk of her being kidnapped, or even killed is too high for my comfort, but I see no other that could explain our plan with such sincerity.”

“You are correct. If she will go, it is your task to keep her safe. No matter the risk to me.”

 

Sheppard radiated anger and resentment, and she wondered if he truly directed it at Guide, or simply deflected it from himself. The latter was more probable, as she saw nothing in her father’s memories that told her he had done wrong. The same could be said for Sheppard as well. Death happens, whether in battle or a force of nature.

If he were a blade under her, she could offer comfort. He lacked the DNA to receive any benefit from the action. Returning him to Atlantis, and to his Queen would be most beneficial at the moment. Sheppard required action to distract his mind and redirect his anger until he could better process it.

He let none of that anger show when helping wrangle Darling for the trip. Her son was a bright beacon of excitement that bombarded her almost before she could step out of Adamant and onto the landing platform. She could not stop the grin that spread when he ran to her, followed shortly by her guardians, as they reached the entryway to the throne room.

The relief that came from the two made her laugh as she greeted them all, lifting her son onto her hip as so many mothers did back in the village. There were no memories of her own mother lifting her as such, though she had certainly carried her. Hazy, fading images of being curled against her breast as she sat on the throne were alongside those of Guide toting her in the crook of one arm. It reminded her that she had not seen her father smile as he once did.

Upon seeing Sheppard, Darling wriggled from her grasp and slid down her skirt. He was brimming with questions about Torren, and if he’d remembered him. Alabaster watched the man, who not two hours before had managed to land of solid blow to Guide, swing her son up above his head. It was something he enjoyed, after seeing Sheppard do the same with Torren, and did not want to be left out. To her son, this was flying, and she could not deny him that pleasure.

~ _You have decided to let him remain on Atlantis?_ ~ Ember asked at her side, when they reached the throne room.

~ _There is no place safer. I trust Steelflower and her Consort to treat him as I would Torren_.~

Darling acted as a balm for them all. Tension and anger dissipated and the air became lighter. It was to their advantage that he distracted Sheppard to avoid any more hurt pride, or become a danger to himself. If Ember and Absolutepatience had not acted as swiftly as they did, Colonel Sheppard would not have come out unscathed. True he bore a few gashes from Guide’s ill managed talons, but she knew her father’s reputation.

Prior to her mother’s death, he had been a formidable blade with a mind just as sharp as a cleverman. Now her fleet knew him as a Queen killer and the Consort who outlived his Queen. The former was a grave crime, despite the best intentions, and the latter was, simply put, shameful. Alabaster did not deny her surprise when it was he who greeted her on Atlantis.

With him back as if nothing had changed, Alabaster saw just how much he had changed. She had read the early mission reports, monitored by Woolsey, concerning him. It would be unwise to not consider motivations left unspoken and unrevealed to her. 

She would never be in his full confidence as her mother once was.  In this, is was to her advantage to name her own Consort. Jennifer’s knowledge of the plan before it was presented to her was telling. The Fair One was an integral part of their alliance and the future of her people, but Alabaster had a feeling she was much more to her father.

Her guardians were reluctant to let her go without them; her two brave human men, whom she trusted with her life more so than the men she surrounded herself with. Starting a zenana was not something she relished, but she would need more who would show absolute loyalty. Guide had warned her to be thorough in her scrutiny, but she wondered now if he worried that his replacement would soon be upon him. He had strived for his elevated position, and would not relinquish it easily.

  
As guests on Atlantis, she did not wish to put her hosts at ill ease. So her company was small, comprised of only herself, Darling, and Ember. Behind them Sheppard sat with the coffin containing Quicksilver’s remains. As Ember landed the cruiser, to settle delicately on the pier, she touched the Colonel’s shoulder. The squeeze held sympathy that she hoped he would understand.

“You have the same look.” He said, standing and straightening his short leather coat.

“I do not understand.”

“That expression. It makes you look exactly like your dad.” His voice was even, and the laughter was gone, but still he smiled that crooked, cocky, smile of an over confident blade.

“And should I say thank you, or give offense to that comparison?”

“Probably both.”

Alabaster let out a bark of a laugh, and she felt amusement from Ember as he lowered the rear ramp for them. The hatch opened with a hiss, releasing the pressurized air. A gust of freezing wind shot through the compartment, chilling them all. Sheppard and Darling both visibly shivered as they exited the cruiser.

The air tasted of snow and sea spray as it gusted and hurled itself against her face, swirling in her sensory pits, and over her tongue. It pulled at her hair, tugging the bright red strands from the braids her servant had so carefully woven before she departed.

Above them towered the spires of Atlantis. A glowing, sparkling edifice against the darkening sky. It was a welcoming sight to her, the city of her long dead enemies, as a sanctuary from the political turmoil that she now dealt with.  
From her side, she felt Ember brush her wrist, ~ _You worry_.~

~ _Of course I worry. If Guide is correct, then Ash poses a danger to all near her. If not, From Dust knows our location, while Just Fortune is severely lacking in blades and pilots if they are attacked. I do not like this plan, but I see no safer alternative_.~ She looked down to find Darling clinging to her skirt as the wind blew fistfuls of fine white hair into his eyes.

Alabaster turned to the guards that had come out to greet her. Woolsey stood before the group, ears and nose red from the freezing air. He wore no protective clothing against the harsh temperature, nor the guards. “I wish I could welcome you on better circumstances,” he said as she fell in stride beside him. Ahead, Darling had already vanished through the door, eager to find his playmate and get out of the cold. The personnel had long grown used to his presence, so that she did not fear harm befalling him.

“You have my deepest sympathies. If we did not suspect ulterior motives, I am sure Guide would have been in attendance. He knew Doctor McKay better than I.”

“They accomplished quite a bit together.”

“Indeed. I have read the mission reports concerning the Replicators. It was impressive work.”

“It certainly was.” Woolsey cleared his throat, “Were you needing separate rooms?” He nodded toward Ember, who was several steps ahead, walking alongside Sheppard.

“A single room is fine. The quarters I stayed in previously were more than adequate for my needs.”

“And, him?”

Alabaster smiled and inclined her head, “A single room will be suitable for us.”

“Right. Sorry for asking, I just wanted to make sure.”

“I understand. Is it not to late to visit Teyla once we are settled in?”

“I wouldn’t think so. I’ll have a communicator sent to your room with the frequencies to her, and myself. Is there anyone else in particular you would need to be in touch with?”

“Doctor Zelenka.”

“Ah, yes. Ember’s brother.” Woolsey’s smile made him look younger, but did not erase the tension that held him so taut beneath the red paneled uniform. It was a burden brought by leadership that she understood. 

As they traversed the sharp corners and long, echoing halls, Alabaster caught a glimpse of her son. When they walked past the open archway of the cafeteria, he was seated at a table with Torren and several Atlanteans. His wind tousled white hair stood out amongst of sea of gray uniforms.

The chambers offered were on the same floor she had previously stayed. The suite was larger and possessed a large tub in the washroom, unlike the previous. Dust filled her nostrils, and the air tasted of disuse. Despite the identical design, it felt alien and sterile.

Woolsey lingered only for a hand’s span of minutes as their belongings were brought into the room and placed carefully along the rear wall. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but only asked if she needed anything else. Alabaster shook her head, politely declining as Ember left for the cafeteria both to monitor Darling and to search for his human brother. She watched as one of the guards, a young woman with pockmarked skin, broke free to follow.  
“Again, I’m sorry your visit had to start like this.” He ducked his head and stiffly exited her room.

Alone, but for the armed woman, older than her companion, who stood outside her closed door. Alabaster turned in a circle to examine the space more closely. It was a decent sized room with two identical beds, separated by a table bearing an alarm clock. A device she’d grown to hate until she discovered how to silence the painfully loud beeping.

She wondered how long it would be before the floor was no longer visible under the toys both Darling and Torren would inevitably leave behind. Alabaster hoped to see it accumulate, as her stay would be regrettably short. Seating herself on the edge of the bed closest to the tall window, the Queen closed her eyes and relaxed. While the autopsy findings and the funeral were ahead, now she could place rivalries and alliances at the back of her mind. It would be days before she would have to worry over anything more than what Darling ingested. 


	7. Jennifer

"After all we’ve been working for, you _killed_ someone. Why; when I offered to let you feed on me, Guide?" Jennifer snapped, livid at the Wraith who sat where Alabaster had hours before. His posture was a mirror of his daughter’s, but masking petulance with an air of disinterest.

When she faced him, she saw that he had closed himself off. It was an expression she recognized when he struggled not to say anything that was crass. His thin lips we set into a hard line, and his shoulders were stiff. It would take more than scolding from a human to get a reaction out of him.

“Why didn’t you feed from me?” She asked, the sharp pitch in her voice fading to exasperation as she sat beside him. “I mean, we’re doing all this work to prevent what you just did from happening. What kind of example does that set to your crew?” 

Jennifer frowned as Guide only snorted in response. It was a dismissive sound that she’d heard often when he worked with Rodney. The comparison made her gut clench and her throat tighten. She willed back the prickling in her eyes and in stead fixed him with the most disapproving look she could muster. He may be ancient, but Guide could be incredibly petty when he wanted to.

“Or were you just being stubborn? Between you and Newton, I don’t know who’s the worst.” Jennifer muttered, knowing very well that Guide did not appreciate being compared to the cat.

The flared nostrils and the hunch forward indicated she had broke through that barrier he put up. Openly poking at a Wraith’s patience was not wise in any situation. However, Jennifer was aware of how important she was to Guide’s plan. She wasn’t sure which plan, or even which sub-plan that was, but she was important enough that he risked his reputation. The likelihood of getting killed at this point in the game that was being played was low.

“Why?” She asked again, moving to sitacross from him on the low table. In this position Guide would be forced to move to avoid looking at her.

After a long pause, he met her gaze directly. Green-gold eyes brightened by the recent feeding stared back at her. Jennifer found herself suddenly remembering just how alien he was. They were people all the same, but the reptilian pupils held centuries of experiences and memories that she could never know. It made her feel cold, and very mortal.

“You were injured.” He said at last.

“I’m not that fragile.” She bit back, and watched those eyes lower.

“I-” Guide frowned, the deep lines between his brows exacerbated by the expression. While the feeding made him brighter, Jennifer saw in that frown his age showing through. She had seen it back on the planet when she’d shone the light on his face, and again when he found Rodney. “I did not want to see you in pain.”

The revelation made her stomach twist. Whether it was a pleasant fluttering, or nervousness, she wasn’t sure. It was flattering, in a way, she thought as her hands began to sweat. Jennifer dared herself to try and meet his eyes. “Yeah?”

For a brief moment she recognized discomfort, how it sat across his shoulders and made him move stiffly. When he stood, Jennifer quickly rose to get out of his way. Her knee collided with his leg and she found herself entangled in the heavy folds of his coat. “ _Jesus_. Sorry. Sorry.” 

When he lost his balance and sat back heavily on the chaise, followed by her, she didn’t know whether to be proud or embarrassed that she managed to topple one of the most formidable Wraith in the galaxy. Straddled awkwardly across him, Jennifer blew her bangs out of her eyes and laughed. She laughed at herself, at the situation she found herself in. The man she thought she loved was dead, and here she was on a hive ship, pressed against a Wraith laughing when she felt like crying.

 

She would blame her mood on the several flutes of wine she had drunk after Alabaster’s visit, and her clumsiness on the head rush that sent her to topple the Commander of Bright Venture. What would she blame on the kiss that followed? 

When Jennifer struggled to find her balance, she gathered her courage to look directly at Guide. The angular features and sharp cheekbones had always been pleasant to look at, even when she was with Rodney. Guide had the look of a stoic general, chipped and distinguished amongst the ruins of some ancient civilization. 

With her stomach in knots, she leaned forward and caught his lips with her’s. Those knots uncoiled and scattered about in a flutter of ribbons when he responded. The deep growl vibrated past her lips and into her chest, mimicking the frantic beating of her heart. 

It was courage and the fire growing in her belly that brought her teeth to snare his lower lip. Talons lightly pressing into the fleshy upper portion of her hips was the reward. Jennifer knew she should be frightened. She was placing herself in a vulnerable position with someone who could easily killer her, as well as take advantage of her. It was a risk she was willing to take at the present, however, the repercussions if anyone found out could be fatal to both them, and the tentative alliance. 

How deeply that taboo went was unknown to her. Given that Guide was enthusiastically returning her affections led her to believe that perhaps it would not be as terrible as she was imagining. The alternative was that he didn’t care, and it was not a prospect that was savory enough to give any lingering thought to.

Those talons sent a shiver up her spine when they dipped below the waistline of her trousers. He toyed with the sensitive skin until she gasped. Once her lips parted his tongue sought her mouth. A Wraith’s tongue was longer than a human’s, darker, like a chow’s; the tip of which ran across the roof of her mouth before she could gather herself enough to return the gesture. 

It was an odd flavor: metallic and vaguely reminiscent of the same wine she drank earlier. His teeth were slimy, and the points roughly grazed her tongue. She’d never asked about oral hygiene, and wondered if that was something that occurred behind closed doors. She was aware that Wraith reacted very negatively to the smell of peppermint. 

While Guide was more preoccupied with biting at her upper lip, Jennifer slid her hand between their bodies and sought the buckle to his belt. It gave way easily, but she found herself at a loss with his coat. She could feel no fastenings or zippers, but it did part at the waist. Beneath her she felt his chest rise as he sucked in air when she cupped the obvious bulge in his trousers. 

Lips tender and swollen from sharp teeth, Jennifer felt some relief when the kiss broke. She knew to breathe from her mouth as he exhaled, to avoid turning her stomach. In general Wraith tended to have halitosis. The scent of rotten fruit was something Jennifer did not particularly enjoy, and still could not get used to.

“If you want me to stop-” She began, letting them both have a way out, just in case this was the beginning of a mistake. The crooked shark’s grin and smug sound Guide made as he nipped at the flesh behind her jaw was maddening. It turned her legs into jelly and nearly caused her to lose her balance again.

Clearly he had no problem with their situation. Jennifer smiled to herself as she thought of what it’d be like to sleep with someone who had centuries of experience, who sought to please his Queen before thinking of his own needs. It would be a stark contrast to the nights of disappointment and frustration; when a vibrator in the shower was occasionally a better time than being with the person beside you.

She felt awful for thinking ill of Rodney when he was gone, but those months of feeling like a second rate Sam Carter had bubbled to the surface. Jennifer had always resented that, and as she untied Guide’s trousers, she felt a small victory over those emotions. Food was about to go down on it’s consumer. Not many people could say that.

 

Perhaps it was madness, some trauma or result of shock. The sudden self consciousness over the fact that she had not shaved since the day Rodney proposed caused to laugh. It was this outburst that caused her to wonder why she was doing this. It certainly wasn’t out of spite, or the need for closeness. 

“And what is it you find so amusing?”

Jennifer glanced up to the scrutinizing gaze that focused on her. She shook her head and told him honestly: “The absurdity of it all. I never imagined myself in this position, but here I am- here we are.” 

“And where exactly are we?”

“On the border of bat shit and insane.”

“I am not sure I understand the terminology in that context,” Guide tilted his head, watching as she finished tugging at the final loop of leather cord in his lap.

“Neither do I.” She said with a shaky laugh. “Can we just roll with it and regret it later?”

With a deep inhale, Jennifer tried to forget the inquisitive alien watching every single move she made. He was so damned analytical of everything. If she backed out now she’d hate herself for it. A sexual encounter with a Wraith, while not something she had fantasized about, was both alluring as well as scientifically significant. Helping further research wasn’t the best of excuses to justify reaching into his trousers and gripping the somewhat familiar cock inside.

Guide’s sharp exhale ruffled her hair, but she refused to look up. Looking up to those ancient, reptilian eyes would, Jennifer knew, cause her to lose her nerve. Did he know what she was doing? He had to, she thought. You can’t go ten thousand years and never hear of a blow job. 

Everything smelled like leather and waxy honeycomb with just a faint hint of the scented oils Wraith favored. Daring to glance up through her lashes as she wrapped her lips around the pointed tip was worth it. Apprehension and curiosity evaporated from the angular, corpse lit face. Wide, flat nostrils flared, followed by a deep, rumbling groan. 

Confidence renewed. Jennifer dipped her head, and reached a comfortable rhythm once she was sure he wouldn’t buck his hips. Out of the peripheral of her vision his hands didn’t seem to know what to do with themselves. They were on his thigh, on the settee, and briefly, cautiously, resting on her shoulder. It was pleasant, she thought, not to have her hair pulled and forced into a specific pace.

Again his off hand found her shoulder. So focused on her tasked, Jennifer only heard incoherent words, muttered in a low voice. As she lifted up, swirling her tongue across the sharp head, talons dug into her flesh. She tried to flinch away, deciding that Guide may not realize what he’d done.

Quite suddenly Jennifer felt something decidedly not familiar. Something awful, slimy, and tongue-like forced it’s way past her uvula and down her throat. The sensation caused her to gag as she tried to pull away. 

To her horror, all the wine and fruit she had eaten earlier dislodged along with the proboscis-like thing onto Guide’s coat, lap, and the front of her shirt. “Oh god,” she covered her mouth for fear of vomiting again. “Oh-oh, I’m so sorry. _What was that_? Fuck, I’m sorry.”

 

Mortification washed over her like cold water. It was if everything had frozen in that moment. Jennifer could only hear the rapid thumping of her heart in her ears. She couldn’t tell if she was still saying “I’m sorry”, or just thinking it. 

When Guide moved to stand, she practically leapt back. Face hot with embarrassment, she wrung her hands, unable to figure out what to do with them. Instinctually she wanted to help clean up, but was unsure of the expression on his face. She was afraid of just making the situation worse.

Scenarios ran through her mind; scenarios that enabled her to be calm and play it off. One that did not play out was Guide laughing. Covered in vomit, his leather ties hanging past his knees, Guide stood before her laughing. It wasn’t a hysterical sort of laugh, nor a nervous chuckle, but a deep, hearty laugh. 

The thought of him laughing at her caused her to flush angrily until Jennifer realized she was being an idiot. Guide had never been one to laugh at her expense; in fact, he had done a great deal to prevent that. Closing her eyes, Jennifer too found herself unable to stop the grin that spread across her.lips. “I can’t believe I just puked all over you.” She said, covering her mouth with the back of her hand in an attempt to stop a fit of giggles threatening to surface. A quick swipe of the other hand, striking the Wraith on the upper arm, finished with: “And you’re an ass for laughing. God I can’t even try that without looking silly.”

“You certainly gave a commendable effort.”

Whether Guide was still joking or being sincere, Jennifer wasn’t completely sure. She shook her head and pushed her bangs back. “There’s puke everywhere. Jesus…we’re going to have to clean all this.”

“We are?”

“Yes, we. You failed to warn me about that…um, extra bit of your anatomy.”

“Your particular method is not something done among our kind. Forgive me for not having the mind to give you warning beforehand.” 

Jennifer could practically hear him fighting not to make a quip. She turned to face him, a well formed thought had begun to piece itself together. It would have been a witty comment if the Wraith standing before her had not scooped her up with no visible effort. That witty comment turned into an indignant “what the hell?”

Guide crossed the large room, past the low ceilinged grotto reserved for live-in servants, and into the bathing room. Being a room reserved for a Queen, it bore three baths in total. One large central pool and two smaller, shallow indentations. The smaller ones were reserved for younglings, quick cleaning, and humans. The central pool was for a Queen and her chosen guest, or guests, as it could comfortably fit at least six.

The Wraith concept of modesty was a far cry from what she was used to, as she was set down and unceremoniously stripped of her own clothing. The pause over her bra clasp brought her back to reality and to the humor in the situation. Guide had never seen an Earth made bra. An alien who manufactured a drug to eliminate the Wraith’s dependency in feeding from unfinished notes, stolen notes, which ended in catastrophe. Jennifer bit her lip to keep from laughing as she was tugged at until he figured out the tiny hooks and clasps.

For a brief moment the realization that she hadn’t shaved anything struck like a splash of cold water once again. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to distract from the hair under her arms, on her legs, and the unkempt thatch between her legs that, to her, looked as if it was making an attempt to creep down her thighs. 

When she looked up, to Guide throwing his trousers into one of the shallow pools, on top of those he’d taken from her, he’d noticed. Of course he noticed, she though, he noticed everything except his own arrogance and stubbornness. 

Without his leather overcoat, he seemed so slender. The shoulder armor did not over compensate, as he did have broad shoulders. The leather did hide the narrow waist, and length of his legs. Wraith were part insect, and those long limbs reminded her of a mantis. Guide, for his age and any faults, though she saw none, certainly wasn’t lacking in confidence. While physically smaller without leather, he still maintained the greatness of his presence.

Here she was, hairy, with vomit breath. _Fuck it_ , she decided. Forcing her arms down, Jennifer stepped into the pool. The membrane gave under her feet and warm water began to seep in. Before her second foot joined the first, the water had reached her knees. It slowed to a stop just below her pelvis, deep enough that if she sat it would reach her chin. 

It wasn’t long before the water rippled, the little waves breaking against her. Long fingers settled on her hips and she leaned back to rest her head against the center of his chest. “You are going to have to explain to me what that was,” the fingers of his off hand slid through the hair she was so self conscious about and between her lips. “Later. For notes-you know, to prevent what just happened in the future.”

 


	8. Guide

It did not matter that she covered herself in flowery oils, the thick alien scent of her flooded past his sensory pits and onto his tongue. The embarrassment of earlier had long since been forgotten. Jennifer’s dry, short-fingered hands traced along the fine hair that ran from the center of his chest to his genitals, a reminder of his age and his species’ origins.

“I knew you were old,” she said, focused on a scar that had never faded just over his left hip. “But I never wondered how much over ten thousand you actually are.”

“Older than I care to admit.”

Jennifer snorted, “Well, you look great for an old man.”

Guide would have snarled at that if it weren’t for her grin. A joke, he realized, and smiled to let her know he accepted the jest in good humor. Idioms, slang, and jokes made distinguishing what was truly being said difficult.

He liked to think of himself as well versed in the intricacies of their dialect, until he found himself inadvertently the butt of a joke. Jennifer, being the least likely to intentionally embarrass him, often took the role of translator. Alabaster had considered making the position permanent on the Hive as incentive for her to stay, and despite better judgment, Guide hoped she would.

"As great as this bath is, shouldn't we get our clothes and, well-" Jennifer nodded her head toward the main chamber.

Guide snorted, "You are not comfortable?"

"Oh, I'm just shiny, but I'm getting pruney." She climbed out of the basin and looked down at him. "And I'd like some of my clothes to be dry before one of us gets called to do something."

" _Shiny_?"

"Good, great, et cetra, and trying to get you to the bed before I realize how bad of a decision I'm about to make, okay?" She replied as blood stained her cheeks and ears red.

Stepping out of the bath, Guide felt the water receding before his foot found the edge. "Oh-kay," he responded. The word felt strange, but he'd heard it often enough to understand its meaning.

Jennifer had already wrapped herself in a towel and vanished through the archway. He hadn't heard her leave, and found himself impressed that she had finally learned not to step so heavily.

The clothes had soaked long enough to lift the wine and bile from the fabric of her pants and his tunic. Guide couldn't do much for he lingering scent of sour wine, as he had not taken the mind to learn how to wash his own clothes. Without servants, the hive was both safe and at a disadvantage, more of inconvenience than livelihood for the moment. Until Alabaster returned from Atlantis with the results of the autopsies of the Wraith-like creature and Doctor McKay, Ash’s presence would continue to be a hindrance. There would be no prepared meals, no wine, no clean clothing laid out with freshly oiled leather.

The cargo cocooned two floors below were the only humans on board, other than the woman standing beside the bed he and Steelflower had briefly shared. That woman had also made her stance clear on he and his crew feeding before she could administer the retrovirus.

 

The logistics of coupling with a human had not crossed his mind until Jennifer made her concern known. "So, how um-exactly will this work? Because I'm fairly certain that _addition_ is going to pose a problem." She said, nodding down to his groin.

While they shared a common origin, even those Queens he had shared a bed with were distant enough from the First Mothers, that the similarities were minor. Human reproductive functions did not factor into his research, nor had it in the past. Only those who mastered the sciences biological held that knowledge.

"I am sure we will discern a method that is agreeable to the both of us."

"I was hoping you'd already know what to do."

"Sex outside of my species isn't something I have knowledge of, Jennifer. You should know the ramifications of doing so outside of research. Even then, such investigation is frowned upon by those of lesser-”

“Open mindedness?”

“That is an adequate term.”

She snorted, "Well, you aren't exactly known for following culture codes. Not to mention all the biomedical work you've done in the past two years."

Jennifer did have a point in the former statement. Queen killer was a title scorned by his kind, and one he had earned thrice. All but one did not bring him insult. However, the lingering rumor that he was responsible for Snow's death kept the wound over her loss raw.

In this, Guide found himself in the position of respect and disdain by those in the Alliance. He had survived the first Atlantean war, but outlived two Queens as both Hive Master and Consort. His killing the Primary was still unknown to all but Teyla; not even Bonewhite was privy to that information.

Fair skin and a bright smile distracted him from the moment of pensive thought on the cusp of becoming dark. It was a trait he appreciated in Jennifer. The name Fair One not only served to reference her coloring, but her ability to quell darkness. She hid her apprehension with decisive action as she took his off hand and pulled him onto the bed, over her.

"I guess we'll just have to do some old fashioned trial and error."

"Indeed." He responded as neutral as possible, unsure if the statement was in jest.

Instinctually Guide felt the urge to submit to Jennifer, who held the position of Queen in the world of this bedroom. It was doubtful that she, despite intimate knowledge of Hive life, would know the intricacies of sex. Being human, she lacked the capacity for the telepathic connection shared between partners. If he was being honest with himself, Guide was curious how the experience would differ from those of past couplings.

He hesitated, off hand poised as if to grasp her arm. Guide found himself unsure of what a human woman, Jennifer in particular, wanted. Foreplay often involved a mental connection that was not present in the synapses within the human sensory cortex. The risk of causing hallucinations was too high to attempt trying to do so.

During the moment's pause, Jennifer took his hand with a determined expression, and placed it just over the thatch of hair at her pubic mound. "“Um, clitoral stimulation is a good way to start. You do know what-“

“I know what it is, Jennifer.” He said, stopping short when he realized how irritated he sounded.

“Oh, okay. Well that’s good. That’s-just, _oh_ , that’s great. Keep doing that.”

 

Fumbling about like an adolescent was not an ideal scenario; certainly not one he imagined himself in with a human. For all his years of experience came to nothing as Jennifer gave him hints as to what his fingers should do.

The frustration over the confusion and alien nature of the situation abruptly ended when Jennifer, ever bold, reached between them. While not as pleasant as her mouth, her dry hand was quite adept in evoking a similar sensation. 

This, he anticipated, would be the furthest they could go. Until research into chemical responses could be performed without raising suspicion, Guide did not want to risk causing internal injury. It was against his species’ culture to put his own needs before that of a Queen. While political gains and power often could override that instinct, Jennifer was neither. She did, however, hold the means of an immense gain in standing if their retrovirus was widely accepted. In this, she was important.

Even if he left his daughter’s Hive, his notoriety would guarantee a prominent place in the Alliance. Still, the backing of From Dust would be required for him to ensure this future. Once Alabaster returned, and Ash dealt with, their plan would begin to move forward.

The plan could wait for the moment, he thought, with an audible groan. Jennifer had positioned her hips so that he could slip between her lips without the risk of penetration. This enabled him to have both hands free, and eased the pressure off his feeding hand. His fingertips tingled where they had been stationary, and wedged under her shoulder for too long.

This was far more preferable to any ministrations she could perform with either hand or mouth. Jennifer, too, seemed enthusiastic about this change in position. He felt her leg hook across the back of his thighs, pulling him further toward her.

Guide found himself dropping to his elbows to ease the pressure in his back and between his shoulders. His age never missed an opportunity to remind him of his limitations. Jennifer did not seem to mind; even seemed to appreciate the closeness.

When Jennifer lay boneless beneath him, and he close to collapsing, Guide moved to lie beside her. They were both sticky, overly warm, Jennifer more so, and exhausted. As the sweat began to dry, he thought it would have been better just to couple in the bath.

Small hints of disquiet brought him back to Jennifer, and her increasing uncomfortably warm body. What little he could glean from her mind without her notice gave him only guilt and inner turmoil.

“What is bothering you, Jennifer?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing-nothing.” She hesitated and propped herself up on one shoulder. Sweat still clung around her hairline and the corners of her nose. “Is wh- _this,”_ she gestured at them both, “too early? I mean Rodney died two days ago. Shouldn’t I be sad? I should be something. Certainly not fucking the most notorious Wraith in the galaxy.”

Unsure if laughing would be appropriate, Guide only nodded to acknowledge he understood her. “Grief affects people differently, Jennifer. Perhaps this is how you cope?”

“One hell of a way to cope. Not that I didn’t mind it. You were great, you know. Just, _shit_. I don’t know, Guide. I really don’t.”

Jennifer pushed herself up and tucked her knees against her chest, shivering from the sudden drop in temperature. Pulling the furs that covered the bed from under her, she slid her feet beneath them.

“Would you prefer it that I leave so that you may _gather_ your thoughts?” He asked, rather sure of himself that the expression was used in the correct terms.

“Oh no,” she said, and looked alarmed. “If you need to be somewhere else, I won’t stop you, but- I’d really appreciate the company. Just for a little while, at least.”

 

It was some time before Jennifer settled in to sleep. She fidgeted; left to use the facilities; got up to get water at least four times in the span of an hour; then went back to the facilities. Once the nervous energy, or what he assumed was nervous energy, had been depleted, she settled down.

While Wraith beds were designed to be comfortable enough to sleep on one’s back, Guide still preferred to lie on his side or stomach. Fluid build up in the sinus cavity under his damaged eye made it uncomfortable to be flat on his back for extended periods of time. It was a problem that could be remedied by Alabaster’s superior healing capabilities; even Jennifer could possibly find a solution to the discomfort. Pride, however, prevented him from doing so.

Before he could move to position himself on his side, Jennifer turned and draped most of her body over his. With a heavy sigh, Guide dropped his head back onto the furs.  He couldn’t find it in him to push her away.

 

“ _Commander?_ ”

The question shook him from the light doze he hadn’t realized he’d fallen in. “ _What is it?_ ”

“ _The Queen has arrived early_.”

_“Why has she not gone to Bright Venture?”_

_“Commander, she wishes to speak with you. It is a matter of urgency.”_

The voice he recognized as Serenity, a cleverman recently defected to the Alliance. Once he managed to untangle himself from overly warm limbs, Guide quickly dressed. After a glance at the still sleeping human, he went out into the entryway.

The young Wraith waited with his head bowed just outside the door. _“_ The Queen is waiting in the laboratory _.”_

Alabaster rose from her perch at one of the diagnostic terminals as they entered the lab. “Where have you been?” Her body was tense and radiating alarm.

“Jennifer requested my company.” He responded evenly. “What’s the cause of such an early departure?”

“Doctor Beckett performed the autopsies,” she closed her eyes and let her shoulders relax. “Doctor McKay was dead long before the cave in. Based on the mission report, he estimated that he had been dead at least three hours.”

“What killed him?”

“It was difficult to discern from the damage, but there was evidence of lacerations around the abdominal cavity.”

Guide watched his daughter pace from the diagnostic terminal to the display screen. “Who was he with?”

“Colonel Sheppard said he had left with Ash.”

“And where were you?”

“During that time frame, asleep.” He let her feel the brief hint of regret. It was unavoidable. He had expended a great deal of energy in unfavorable conditions. The option to feed from Jennifer was repellant enough to prevent him from considering it.

“And Ash?”

“The guards’ reports she has done little but remain in bed. Sixclaw has noted that she appears ill, but not malnourished.”

Guide approached the terminal and activated the display. The database was relatively bare, as he had ordered all files either routed to Bright Venture or deleted prior to their arrival. He did not want to risk From Dust gaining any information that could damage the Alliance if they were betrayed.

Selecting the reports Sixclaw maintained from the human quarters, Guide brought up the video feed from Ash’s room. Her figure, seated in the center of the bed, appeared waxy. Her skin cast an unhealthy sheen of mottled grey and blue. Her short crop of hair was patchy. The reports had not made any mention of hair loss. Is she pulling it out, he wondered?

“How long has she been like this?”

“Initial signs of illness were noted three hours after she was placed in those quarters.”

“The report from the other being came back before I left.” Alabaster came to stand beside him. “It was a hybrid. They could not determine whether or not it was one of Lastlight’s, but the body was host to a virus that was not in their database. I was allowed to take a sample to run it through our’s.” She furrowed her smooth brow and watched Ash on the screen. “Doctor McKay had traces of that virus in his system before he died. Doctor Beckett suspects it originated from the wound.”

A cold knot was forming in Guide’s abdomen. He’d allowed a potential carrier of this virus on board this hive. Despite every precaution, this crew was at a greater risk than he’d initially thought. He ordered the waiting Serenity to wake Jennifer and escort her to the lab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait. Everything should now be back on schedule.


	9. Jennifer

After being shaken awake by an unfamiliar Wraith, and blushing furiously as she dressed herself, Jennifer followed the young cleverman. Other than the fact that the Queen and the Commander wished to see her, she gleaned nothing from his stammering. At least her fear of being found out was quelled. 

It was only once they reached the large entryway to the main biological lab, did she realize why he’d acted so oddly. The still white teeth flashed as he spoke, and the lack of adornments gave way to his very young age. It was possible this Wraith, who had not introduced himself, was the equivalent of a teenager. She was still unsure of the aging process, and what connoted an adult versus an adolescent. Still, the poor guy probably had never seen a woman, human or otherwise, in any state of undress. She remembered Bonewhite had mentioned that some Wraith go their entire lives without seeing a Queen in person.

Inside waited both Guide and Alabaster. The former, she’d noticed, looked more haggard than usual. Jennifer hadn’t realized how much he’d not kept up with his appearance since meeting on the planet. Guide wasn’t exactly one to go out of his way to look good, as many males did. He didn’t feel the need to impress the Queen, or vie for her attention. However, Jennifer had never seen him in this state. Perhaps Colonel Sheppard had; having been accessory to their prison escape. 

“What’s the matter?” She asked, directly to Alabaster.

The Queen had been bent over a terminal when she entered, and had yet to look up. “I’ve brought the autopsy results.” She said at last, straightening herself. “Your Doctor Beckett has hypothesized that a virus is the cause of this rapid mutation, but it is not in the Ancient’s database.”

Jennifer frowned, “Weird, okay. It isn’t in your’s?”

“It is not,” Alabaster replied. 

“Did Carson run it through our data-Earth’s database?”

“I would assume he has, but there is no mention of it in the report. To be thorough, I would like you to run the sample, Jennifer. You and Guide have seen those creatures; what they can do. I do not want the risk of having one on any of my ships.”

Past Alabaster, Jennifer looked at the display. A thin strip was dedicated to test results, but the main portion of the screen was focused on a live feed from Ash’s room. “Jesus,” she murmured. “How long has she been like that?”

“At least three hours after arrival.” Guide responded from behind her. He was close enough for her to smell the warm leather of his overcoat. 

“Has anyone been in there?” 

“Only Drones, to report any changes.”

 “Someone needs to go in. Guide, look at her.”

“And if she’s responsible for Doctor McKay’s death?” 

Jennifer frowned and looked back to the Wraith. “She’s still a person who needs medical attention.”

“Have Sixclaw direct a Drone.” Alabaster said after a heavy silence. “We’ll need a blood and tissue sample from her before we can proceed with any form of treatment. Guide,” she nodded toward the heavy double doors. 

With a curt dip of his head, Guide did as she asked.

Jennifer watched him vanish as the doors hissed closed behind him. “You worry?” Alabaster said, startling her. She hadn’t heard the Queen approach, and realized she did not wear the heeled boots she often did. A plain pair of leather, sole-less flats covered her feet. 

“I shouldn’t. I mean, this is your _father_. Of all the people to worry about…”

Alabaster chuckled and seemed to relax to a degree. It was understandable that everyone on board the hive should be tense. This virus was the probable cause of the mutation, and it wasn’t understood how it was spread. Yet, Jennifer told herself.

“He could do with a good brushing,” Alabaster agreed. “However, I do rather like the beard.”

“Yeah, it suits him.”

“He used to go without one, before.”

“Really?” Jennifer couldn't picture the grizzled Commander any other way. He had been in varied degrees of dishevelment since coming in contact with Atlantis. 

Alabaster hummed in response. “Wore his hair up and out of the way, and kept his talons smooth as well. The latter was for my benefit during infancy, so he didn’t risk scratching me.”

“Wow. It’s a shame you don’t have photos.”

“We do not require photos to remember.”

 

They spoke while the test ran through the known viruses of Earth, current and extinct. Idle talk that shifted from Darling to her family back home. Alabaster was particularly interested in television, having watched a few movies during her visits. She was very fond of The Fantastic Mr. Fox, which not only did she enjoy the plot, but also that it kept Darling and Torren in one spot for it’s duration.

“Have there been any viruses, or mutations such as this in Earth’s history?” Alabaster asked after a stretch of silence.

“Just in movies and folklore. Did you get the chance to see any werewolf movies during your stay?”

“ _Were-wolf_." Alabaster said slowly, trying out the new word. "I do not think I have.”

“I’m not sure what’s based on folklore, and what was made up by Hollywood, but there were lots of ways to become a werewolf: bitten, scratched, drinking water out of a wolf’s paw print, making a deal with the devil. I think there was one were you rub something all over your body and tie a wolf pelt around your waist.” Jennifer shrugged. “Anyway, the result was that you turned into a wolf, or wolf monster.”

Alabaster frowned, “And they do not exist?”

“Not that we know of, on Earth at least. For all we know there could be a planet full of them. I mean, well, there is neurological condition called lycanthropy, where the patient believes they are an animal.”

 

After a while, as Alabaster mulled over the new piece of Earth trivia, Jennifer dropped her head back and sighed. “Nothing. Damn it.” She closed her laptop and put her head in her hands. “Maybe with fresh samples we can start figuring out how this thing works. Until then, it’s just a mystery virus on a slide.” 

She sat back, leaning against the wall behind her. The display still showed Ash, sitting on the bed in the same spot. The young Wraith hadn’t moved, even when the Drone entered and took a few samples. She hadn’t flinched. That could have gone worse, she thought. However, the lack of any reaction troubled her. Other than the rhythmic movement of her ribcage with each breath and the unnervingly occasional blink, there was no movement.

“I’d like to be in there. I can’t tell if she’s running a fever, or completely non-responsive.”

“I cannot allow that risk, Jennifer. If anything were to happen to you-“ The Queen stood before the display and looked up at the magnified figure. “Your importance to our cause, and to me as a friend. I cannot sanction it.”

“If this virus is as bad as I think it is, it won’t matter. Our friendship, our work. What good will it do if this runs rampant? I can’t just sit around while she suffers. If there’s anything I can do that will help her-“

“Jennifer,” Alabaster’s voice took a sharper tone. “Please, do not give me cause to make this a command.”

“Look, I-“

“I want this virus contained as much as you, even cured if it is possible.” Alabaster cut her off, holding her feeding hand up to indicate she should not interrupt. “My clevermen are just as capable at solving conundrums. If you wish it, you may supervise. However, you will not place yourself in an unnecessary risk. Our main priority is convincing From Dust to accept the retrovirus and ally with us; do not forget that.” 

Guide she could argue with until they both turned blue, even Bonewhite. Alabaster’s word was final. Jennifer could only nod in agreeance. “I understand. 

“Thank you.” Alabaster responded, and seemed to deflate. Her shoulders drooped, and she slouched back into her seat in that deceptively lazy posture. Unlike Teyla, there was no convincing anyone that she was a Queen. Although, Steelflower was now greatly respected within the Alliance. With Waterlight’s backing, Steelflower could slouch and lounge all she wanted. Teyla, however, would not drop her guard long enough to do so.

Until Guide or a messenger returned with the samples, only observation and conversation could occur. Jennifer decided the topic of Ash would be off limits unless her condition changed. She didn’t like arguing with Alabaster, not with so few friends. She didn’t want to risk losing any more of them.

Guide did not return. In his place a blade with his hair pulled back in a severe braid entered. Jennifer guessed he spoke only telepathically, for he bowed hastily and left as Alabaster stood. 

“From Dust is early,” she said in explanation. “And forgive Swiftblade’s rudeness. He is still growing used to the concept of symbiosis.”

“It’s fine, really.” Jennifer smiled to let the Queen know she was sincere. 

Alabaster opened her mouth as if to say something further, but only nodded her head. It was something she’d seen Guide do often, either catching himself before saying something he thought may be wrong, perhaps offensive, or simply unable to find a translation for what he wanted to convey. She watched Alabaster exit, leaving the lab to herself.

 

Typically there would be a Drone posted by the door, or someone would be assigned to her. With the diminished crew and lack of servants, there were no free bodies for what she termed as “human-sitting”. Initially she had balked at the idea of being watched constantly, but after a few unpleasant encounters, Jennifer saw the reasoning behind Guide’s overprotective gesture; more so now, than previously. 

The lone figure of Ash moved, catching Jennifer’s eye. She watched the long legged Wraith leave the bed and walk out of the camera’s field of vision. “Weird,” she said aloud just to hear something other than the constant hum of the ship. She pushed herself away from the table and approached the screen, as if being closer would allow her to see more. It was then she wished for telepathy, because she could alert someone to the change in behavior.  

As if in answer Sixclaw, or the Wraith she assumed was Sixclaw entered the lab. His hands, she immediately noticed, gripping the container of samples: four fingers on his off hand were heavily armored, with synthetic talons. “Alabaster has instructed that I report to you.”

“Thanks, yeah. Did you get any readings on body temperature?” 

“Yes. There was nothing out of the ordinary for a female that young.”

“Could you explain?”

“Until our bodies no longer require sustenance by means of digestion, our metabolism is closer to that of a human.”

“So you have a higher than normal body temperature.” 

“Correct. Ash’s is high, but not over the threshold of what we consider normal for her phase of development.”

“And she didn’t react to any presence in the room?”

“None. Her mind is a void,” Sixclaw paused and frowned deeply. “I do not know how to explain this to you.”

“It’s okay. I think I understand.” Jennifer nodded to the display, “She’s moved. Do you have anyone monitoring the room?”

“I have placed Drones outside and the doors require a manual override from the outside terminal to unlock.” He stepped forward, next to her, but maintaining a respectful arm’s distance. “From the Drone I have noticed her hair is becoming alarmingly thin, although I did not witness her pulling it out.”

“Until a few minutes ago, she hadn’t moved. Alabaster and Guide were monitoring her before I was summoned.”

Sixclaw pulled at his pointed beard. The four armored fingers of his off hand remained stiff and unmoving as he gripped the hair between his thumb and forefinger. “If the Hive could spare it, I’d like to send in a sensor pod.”

“Considering the potential threat, I’d think you could get one.”

The Wraith hummed in response, his claws clicking against the metallic prosthetics. “Come,” he said, and Jennifer followed him to the main terminal. The great fleshy expanse controlled all the display screens in the room. She watched his fingers glide over the surface, “This is the frequency I will use to broadcast the probe’s feed.” He took her hand, stopping to look as she instinctively flinched when the feeding hand reached for her. “Touch here,” he instructed, guiding her hand across the unnervingly soft surface. “This will bring it up alongside the main video feed when the probe has been activated.”

“How will I know when it has? I don’t exactly have telepathy.”

“Just listen. There are communication nodes for the benefit of our human servants.”

 

A voice warped by a crackling, disused intercom system jolted Jennifer out of her thoughts. “The probe is active and broadcasting, Fair One.”

Unsure of how to respond, she simply said “Thanks” to the open air. 

Moving her fingers across the pad in the pattern Sixclaw showed her, Jennifer watched the display screen split. On the left was the stationary feed, clear and detailed. On the right a lower resolution image came to life. It rotated at the doorway, scanning for life signatures. A thin strip of data cascaded down the side of the feed, indicating a heat signature detected a few yards away.

Floating across the main room, the probe turned a sharp left into the bathing area. The wobbling made Jennifer feel motion sick as she watched.

The probe spun again, gathering data from the entire room, before settling on the source of the heat. There, grainy and distorted by static, was Ash. The Wraith was slumped against the far wall, her back to the probe. Even under the low resolution, Jennifer could see the dark discoloration that ran the length of her spinal ridge, spreading outward like ink dripped on fabric. The clothing she’d worn were in tatters surrounding her, as if she’d ripped them off. Her ribs heaved with labored breath.

“Jesus,” Jennifer gasped. 

“Her condition in rapidly deteriorating,” came the crackling response from the intercom.  

“No shit,” she said under her breath. “Can you have someone control the probe?” She said aloud, “I’d like you to help me run these samples immediately.”

“Yes,” came the curt response.

The probe faltered briefly, then the picture stabilized soon after. Jennifer was certain of Ash’s infection, but was unsure of when it had happened. Was the change permanent, or could they, like werewolves, change back to their original form? There were no survivors or video feed from the facility to provide clues to the mystery. 

It wasn’t long before the doors parted for Sixclaw. His cheeks were dark and he tried to conceal how out of breath he was. 

“I want you to run these,” she said, handing three of the vials to the cleverman. The left, containing blood, was a dark near black sludge. 

Sixclaw had made triplicates of each to ensure there would be enough to thoroughly test. This left Jennifer with her own vials of blood, saliva, and skin samples. She inserted a cotton swab into the blood, swiping the contents across the glass slide at the table. Her laptop was hooked into a converter so her data could be uploaded to the Hive, if need be. This allowed her to use the diagnostics provided by the Hive and test them alongside both the Lantean and Earth database. 

Once the slide was inserted and scanned, she brought up the DNA display alongside a control sample Carson had collected from a long dead Wraith, prior to Michael releasing the retrovirus into the human population. 

Jennifer pressed her lips against steepled fingers as she stared at the screen. The DNA from Ash wasn’t reading as Wraith, or as anything in the compiled databases. She quickly ran a second sample through, just to be certain. Again the reading came back the same.

“What have you got?” She asked Sixclaw, who was bent over a terminal. From her position she could see his smooth brow deeply furrowed and the corners of his too wide mouth creep further downward. 

“Our system cannot recognize her.”

“Compare your results to mine.” 

He nodded and brought up on the terminal her data flow. “They are a match.”

At least there was no variation in the samples. It made the process of figuring this conundrum out somewhat easier. Jennifer pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and tried to relieve some of the pressure forming there from staring at the bright LED screen. She’d grown used to the low lighting of the Hive.

“Can you run the salvia and skin? Run them twice, different swabs and compare them. I’m going to go through the back logs and see if I can find anything remotely similar to this,” she gestured at the image of Ash. 

Michael had to have made something like this, she thought to herself. Each of his experiments had been improved upon. The creature they saw in the facility might have been the final experiment. The perfect monster.


	10. Guide

The blank screen reflected their images back: father and daughter. It reminded him of Snow, albeit a hand or so taller. Alabaster had inherited his stature, and fortunately her mother's beauty. She frowned at the ghost of From Dust, that serene face that demanded they rendezvous much earlier than previously agreed.

It was a decent tactic, to give them less time to plan. If she intended to betray them, they would be only partially off guard. With his current crew, the Hive was at a great disadvantage. However, he had three darts at the ready. Alabaster, Sixclaw, Jennifer, and he would be in the dart bay once they drop out of hyperspace, ready to flee in different directions. Someone with knowledge of the retrovirus manufacturing process would survive.

From Dust's demand for the party responsible for the retrovirus troubled him; If she planned to take Jennifer hostage, or kill her when she boards the hive would pose a problem either way. It was a risk he was forced to take, and the two stun sticks Alabaster had placed in a hidden pocket were their only means of survival in that scenario. They would be searched for weapons.

He didn't like feeling vulnerable on an unfamiliar hive with an unfamiliar Queen. At his age, he wasn't confident in his unarmed combat. To let Jennifer and his daughter venture into a potentially hostile situation with a blade he could not place his full confidence in was not an option. Bonewhite controlled Bright Venture in his absence and Ember remained with Darling in Atlantis. The latter of the two probably wouldn't fair very well against a seasoned blade.

Guide sighed and Alabaster smiled. "I know." She said and leaned against the flight control. "I do not like this either."

"It is not ideal."

"No, but it's the best situation imaginable. If she decides to betray us, at least a nearly empty hive is all she'll manage to destroy."

"Along with yourself and Jennifer."

"True, but we are not the only persons with sole knowledge of the plan. Yes, I'd like to live, but it is good to know that our cause won't end with us."

"I've lost you once, I'd rather not lose you again."

"Well, you'd be dead too in that scenario."

He snorted and let her feel his amusement. She was correct, if he was dead, it wouldn't matter. Being killed by Ash upon return was just as much of a possibility, he thought, having forgot the diseased Wraith for a moment. Forgetting her would be of some respite. The stress of this new threat in addition to the already tense negotiations with unallied Hives was starting to wear on his tolerance.

Until they reached the coordinates of the rendezvous site, Guide wanted a moment of distraction.

Alabaster nodded her goodbye as she left to prepare for her meeting with From Dust. She would decide, very strategically, how to dress and present herself. He watched her go; her slender, broad shouldered figure with her mother’s brilliant crimson hair. She could dress in the coarse peasant clothing she was so fond of, and still look just as regal as Steelflower in full regalia.

Guide smiled to himself, remembering Snow’s fondness for simple adornments and dress. So as not to detract from her natural beauty, she had explained and smiled as if she was privy to a secret that no one in the universe knew. Alabaster could smile like that, though not for him. Jennifer too, when immersed in her work would lip the corner of her mouth in that same expression of hidden knowledge.

Distracting his mind with Jennifer’s company would be preferable. However, he did not wish to waste her time just for his own pleasure. She would not leave the lab, he knew, until Alabaster required her presence or she solved the problem with Ash. A problem he sorely wished he did not have to deal with. While he knew he had the power to burden another with the sickly creature, Jennifer would not approve.

What did the opinion of a human, a young human matter? He found himself pondering this as he descended to the deck below. More than he wanted to admit. Jennifer was currently the acting representative for Atlantis in the- _his_ Alliance.

A dull pounding had begun to rattle his skull, just behind his eyes. Guide found himself wanting nothing more than a glass of strong, dry wine and silence.

 

The wine was sweeter than he preferred, but the surrounding silence and moment alone was worth the disappointment filling his glass. He sipped at it occasionally, when he remembered it was on the table, and grimaced as it hit the back of his tongue. This was a flavor meant to accompany a meal, or for those with less refined palates. Sweet wine was an introductory alcohol, but paired well with candied meat and tart fruit.

If he lived long enough, he would get the chance to share such a meal with Darling as he did with Alabaster. In his prime he remembered introducing a similar wine to a young Queen when he was but a small piece in her zenana; in a time before Snow, before he bore the distinctive mark over his left eye.

He closed his eyes and relaxed into the dimly lit alcove. The cushions were lacking, but not so much to cause discomfort. One of the furs on the bed would solve the issue, but he did not feel like making the effort.

Reaching out into the web of thoughts, he found Sixclaw. The cleverman’s mind was a cacophony of theories and anxiety. Enough so that the Wraith had not noticed Guide’s presence.

“ _Cleverman_.”

The mind became alert. The jolt opened his thoughts and Guide felt the apology. “ _The Fair One and I are no closer at discovering the cause of this virus. W-she has likened the infection to several Earth diseases that cause disfigurement and mental degradation.”_

_“And treatment?”_

_“We have performed several simulations with treatments she suggested. None have proven fruitful. She is insistent that we find something, but I am certain Ash is too far gone. She has protested my suggestion of extermination.”_

_“Naturally.”_

_“Commander, it is my opinion that extermination is the only course of action we can take. If Ash changes into one of those creatures from your report, then our crew risks infection.”_

_“I am aware of the risk, Cleverman.”_ Guide sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. _“Allow the Fair One to exhaust her resources. Afterward I will allow you to dispose of Ash.”_

_“And if it is too late?”_

_“Then we will deal with it.”_

_“Yes, Commander.”_

Guide broke the connection and felt around the web of active minds. The knowledge of Ash’s condition was concentrated to only those few he and Sixclaw trusted to be privy to the situation. Widespread fear was his biggest worry. Even Wraith fell to the irrationality of it. Her condition would be contained until either she was dealt with or cured. It was doubtful that the latter would see fruition, but he did not wish to discourage Jennifer. In the event of Ash’s destruction, she may find a cure, or vaccine.

 

By the time his mind was hazy enough to clear the detritus from his thoughts the door slid open. Guide kept his eyes closed, feeling for but not detecting to presence. The blue framed figure stepped in range of his sensory organs and folded its arms. "Really?"

"What brings you to this part of the hive, Jennifer?"

When he opened his eyes, she was standing at his feet. Her cheeks were still red from what he assumed was a hurried journey from the lower labs. Hair clung to the sweat that beaded at her hairline.

"I was looking for you. Alabaster said you were likely to be here, sulking."

"Sulking?" He snorted, "I was not aware that resting was now considered sulking by human standards."

"You haven't been back to check on our progress." Jennifer sat beside him. Her body was radiating heat and she stank of nervous sweat. "I've never worked without you hovering over my shoulder. Especially with something this serious."

"I was confident that Sixclaw was an adequate substitute and capable assistant."

"Oh he is. I'm not complaining. He's very thorough, and I appreciate that." She blew the hair out of her eyes. "But Ash is deteriorating. Quickly."

"I was made aware of this. Have you made any progress?"

"No." He felt her shoulder against his, pressing the leather pauldron into his upper arm. "It's clearly a virus. It attacks the white blood cells first, crippling the immune response, and then begins to reproduce. Once that happens, the host is forced to change to be more suitable for transference. And there's nothing I've found that can even slow it down. Once that virus is in your blood stream, it's too late."

"Sixclaw has suggested extermination-"

"Guide-"

He held up his feeding hand, palm up, to indicate she should not interrupt. "Jennifer, you have said there is nothing you can do to halt the transformation. It would be the more compassionate choice to end her life before the transformation completes."

She shook her head but finally said: "You're not wrong. Before I left she had ceased reacting to any stimulus. If she weren't sitting up, unsupported, Id classify her as catatonic."

"How do you suggest we euthanize her?"

"She's infectious, which poses a problem. Do you have any biohazard gear?"

"I will have to check our storage. The data concerning our stock was erased, for obvious reasons."

"That'll be a bitch to go through."

"Indeed." He shifted to free his arm and let his fingers tangle in her still sweat damp hair. Jennifer's hair was finer than Snow's but rivaled in thickness. Letting his fingers play in her hair was a calming, repetitive action. Perhaps the wine had relaxed him prior.

Jennifer seemed to enjoy the sensation as she sank further into the cushions. "It would be nice if nothing would happen for a bit. Just a break. No death, no epidemic, no violence." She sighed, "I know, I know. You don't have to remind me how the world works. I just wish that we could be here, doing this, and not have anything at the back of our minds, nagging for attention."

"Wine presents an advantage in that it silences those thoughts for a time."

"Tempo- wait, are you drunk?"

"It would appear that I am, in fact, quite drunk."

Jennifer laughed, "Jesus, Guide. We're set to meet From Dust in less than eight hours, there's a massive threat sitting below decks rotting away, and you're sitting here drinking-" she picked up the nearly empty bottle and tipped it to her mouth. Coughing, she covered her mouth, "drinking what tastes like peach schnapps." She made a gagging sound before returning the bottle to its place beside his empty glass.

"And what would you do if something happened?" She asked, taking both of his wrists and pulling him upright. Guide immediately became lightheaded, swaying before widening his stance. "You're the Commander, remember?"

"I would command that someone else take charge of the situation. It is a luxury afforded to my position."

"You're full of shit, you know that, don't you?"

Before he could formulate a retort, Jennifer began to pull him toward the bed. He was forced to follow her, as resisting would cause him to lose his balance. This small human turned him around, unbuckled and removed his overcoat before pushing him firmly in the chest. Once the back of his knees hit the bed, he sat heavily on the layers of fur and quilts.

"What are you doing?" He asked as delicate hands picked up his left foot and removed the long toed boot.

As she yanked the right one off to join the other haphazardly thrown onto the crumpled coat, Jennifer frowned at his knees. "Getting you into bed. That way you can either sleep this off or use the fact that you've just woken up as an excuse for your condition."

The joint in her left knee popped as she stood. "Jennifer," he said when she turned to leave. When she faced him, her arms were folded over her chest.

"Do you want me to stay?"

Relieved that he did not have to say it aloud, Guide nodded.

 

The staunch and rigid cultural codes prevented Guide from ignoring that thought, the spark of fear born from the risk of being caught. With wine came darker thoughts. Was he so old, he wondered, that he must resort to what is akin to beastiality to satisfy base desires? Alabaster wouldn’t have use for him for much longer, and Steelflower preferred to remain human.

Jennifer’s overly warm thighs on either side of his hips pressed into his low waist, bringing him back to the moment. Her features were blurred from the drink and the damaged nictitating membrane that partially obscured his left eye. When she leant forward to kiss him, her hair hid both of them in a thick curtain. The memory of Snow, her crimson hair spread on either side of his face gripped at his chest with a cold, long dead hand. It settled in his gut like a weight.

Whether it was a shift in his expression or a change in his body, Jennifer picked up on it immediately. He felt the concern before she voiced it. She lifted herself away, propped on one arm and tossing her hair back behind her shoulders. “Is something wrong?”

“It is just the wine, and age,” he responded. It was not a lie, just not the full truth of it.

Her thick brows furrowed and she sat up. “I’ve seen you when you get into these dark moods. It’s not _just_ wine and being old,” she said and placed a hand over his mouth before he could argue.

Jennifer removed her hand and he returned her scrutinizing gaze with indignity. “If you don’t feel like getting whatever it is off your chest, fine, but I’m not going to hang around while you mope.”

Guide snorted and turned away, feeling not dissimilar to a youngling being chastised. “I doubt you could comprehend-“

“Bullshit,” she interrupted. “I may not be able to sympathize, but humans have a little thing called empathy.” She gripped his chin and forced him to face her. Guide found he could not resist. He was just a pliable under her as he was under Snow. “Talk it out, do something, because if you’re just going to shut me out, I’m not going to stick around to deal with it.”

He had never seen her so fiercely focused outside of her work. So intimate was their position that he could feel the swell of emotions radiating from her mind. There were many so foreign to him that he could not determine exactly what she was feeling, however concern and frustration were very clear.

“They are old memories,” he said at last, keeping his voice as flat as possible.

“Of Snow?” She asked, dropping down to her elbow. Her chest pressed against his. When he didn't immediately respond, Jennifer looked away. “Sorry, Alabaster told me about her when I asked about why you haven’t gone to another Hive.”

“I am of more use to my daughter here.”

“I’m sure of it, but you can’t hold the position of standing Consort for long.”

“I am aware of this.” He said bitterly.

“Hey,” she moved her free hand to run her fingers through the uncut beard growth along his jaw, “You know there’s no one out there who can replace you? Honestly, the prospect of someone else just like you out there is terrifying.”

He laughed, despite himself. “You don’t think you could handle another me?”

“I’d hightail it back to Earth. Although two of you presents some interesting possibilities, if you didn’t kill each other first.”

“Really?” he reached up and lightly traced his talons along the back of her neck. “What sort of possibilities?”

The darkening of her cheeks that spread to her ears was endlessly amusing to him. It distracted him as did her thick lashes when she cast her eyes downwards. Her lightness and determination could pull him from the darkest moods, if for a moment. Being needed was something he craved, as did most Wraith.

“Why do you bother asking, when you know what I’m feeling?”

“I enjoy listening to you.”

The redness across her cheeks deepened to an alarming shade.


	11. Jennifer

It was quiet, but for their breathing. That was all Jennifer wanted. Quiet. Here there was no patient, no retrovirus, and no god damned space werewolves. _Jesus_ , she thought to herself, _space werewolves_. _God damned space werewolves_.

She dug the heel of her palms into her eyes to banish the thought, and sighed down at the sleepy-eyed drunk Wraith between her thighs. Dealing with the mood swings associated with alcohol was not something she wanted to deal with again. He wasn’t her father, he wasn’t a binge drinking college football star, he wasn’t a genius in need of an ego boost. He was one of only two, maybe three beings keeping her alive in this society. 

_Distract him_ , Jennifer thought. It worked with dad. “I’ll give you two choices,” she told him. “You can fuck me, or feed. Either way, I’m going to feel like shit afterwards.”

She watched the confusion cross his face. It wasn’t an expression she’d seen often in the recent months. They’d grown used to one another. For a moment he seemed small, as if he’d drawn in on himself. Which, for a Wraith of his stature, was an impressive feat. 

Jennifer placed both her hands on either side of his head and leaned forward. The thin slits of his pupils expanded as her hair formed a curtain around them. His eyes were such a beautiful shade of green. For a second she thought she caught a glimpse of something more than mere curiosity.

He was the first to look away. Ragged talon tips brushed against her hips before his hands settled on the tops of her thighs. 

“Why do you say that, Jennifer?”

She was surprised to hear his voice. He’d grown so quiet. 

“Because I have a patient dying a floor down, and I can’t do a god damned thing about it. I’d like to forget, just for a second, that I’m letting someone else down.”

“She’d been bitten before we found her,” Guide’s off hand lifted from her thigh and pushed her hair back. “You are letting no one down. Ash was dead already.”

“As much as I want to believe in that logic, that’s bullshit. It has to be reversible, or at least, halted. Michael wouldn’t make something he couldn’t undo if it got out of hand.”

“We’re still receiving reports of his failed creations being sighted.”

Jennifer lowered her forehead to rest against his. The protruding brow ridges pressed against the tops of her eye sockets. “I wish he’d just die. Even after the biohazard crew scraped him off the deck, he’s still hurting people. 

When he opened his mouth, Jennifer didn’t give him an opportunity to respond. She caught his lips with her’s and kissed him. All the frustration at him, at the situation she found herself in went into it. She felt his talons at the base of her skull, winding through her hair, tugging at it. 

The wine had soured in his mouth and permeated the slimy film coating his teeth. She recognized the bitter fruit, but couldn’t recall the name. Ash was now nothing but a niggling worry at the back of her mind. This was what she wanted. The scrape of sharp teeth against her bottom lip, the sting and heat of it. Her lips would be swollen and tender, and Guide was no longer careful.

Alcohol, she wondered, would it make him forget that she was human? Part of her wanted to know what it would be like if she were Wraith. In this, she envied Teyla. She truly knew Wraith society from the point of view of an insider, as until recently, only Guide knew her secret. Jennifer could never know all the nuances of their culture. Her pink skin and soft, flat features set her apart and was a reminder that she’d never be truly accepted.

When he broke free, Guide began to nip at her neck. Jennifer fought the urge to instinctively flinch away from those teeth. As nasty as they were, they were designed to puncture fruit skin. She held her breath when he passed over her throat and felt his hips pressed upwards, against her. _Jesus_ , she thought, afraid that saying it aloud would break the illusion, make him remember, if he even forgot.

Her fingers were snared in the tangles of his hair as he sat up. Seated in his lap, her belly against his, Jennifer thought it best to mimic his actions. Despite experience, she still felt unsure of herself, unsure of where her hands needed to be. Guide was familiar, but not human. 

Taking a chance, her heart pounding and her throat tight, Jennifer tentatively brushed her blunt teeth against the tender skin just below his ear. She felt the humming, purr-like groan against her mouth as it vibrated down to her chest. Guide seemed to melt under her hot tongue, and Jennifer got the first glimpse at what it was like to be a Queen.

She prayed he wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t ruin the spell. God, he looked so much younger. It wasn’t that she didn’t find him attractive, or particularly old looking; Jennifer had often imagined what he looked like in his prime. Alabaster had her stories, but that was all they were. She lacked the capacity for her to share the visual memories.

Untangling her fingers from that disheveled mane he took little pride in, Jennifer pulled her shirt over her head. She felt the small zipper snag her bangs and rip free a few hairs as she tossed it to the side. When she reached behind him to tug his hair, his chin lifted enough so she could get to the sensitive flesh below his jaw. 

Guide, despite the awkward position his neck was in, managed to unhook her bra with relative ease. Only through a bit of fumbling to find the hooks. She shook the straps off and let it fall between them. When she bit down and sucked on the skin below his ear Guide bucked his hips violently enough to dislodge her. 

Jennifer winced as she rubbed at her lips. She’d bitten herself in the process, and a smear of blood was streaked across her forefinger. Fuck it, she thought, and kissed him. She felt his tongue glide over the tender wound, felt his flat nostrils flare against her cheek. 

Curious as to just how pliable he was, Jennifer pulled away, raking her teeth across his lower lip. His pupils had nearly engulfed his irises, until all that remained was a thin green halo. She briefly thought of her own appearance, bruise lipped, sweaty, and disheveled. Waving the self-doubt away in lieu of discovery, she dared herself to place both hands against his shoulders and pushed him back. He gave no resistance.

Jennifer liked the way his hair fanned out behind him, how his beard, now extending up into his hairline, framed his face. It suited him, though it could use some shaping up.

He had managed to push the legs of her pants nearly to her knees. She hadn’t noticed until he brushed his fingertips over her calves. Guide didn’t seem to mind body hair, perhaps he didn’t know enough or care about human beauty standards. She wasn’t going to question it, and was relieved that he didn’t make her feel ashamed because of it. Sucking in her belly, Jennifer unzipped the fly of her pants and rose up onto her knees to get them off.  Guide released her legs so she could free herself. 

A talon hooked into the waist of her underwear. She watched as he ran his thumb over the mint colored fabric before pulling them down over her thighs. Jennifer couldn’t stop herself from flinching when she felt the cool, hardness of his claws brush between her lips. “Sorry,” she mumbled, feeling embarrassed.

“Hmm?” he placed his hands on her waist, keeping the feeding organ away from her skin. “I do not understand, why are you sorry?”

“For being so jumpy. I’m still not-“ she frowned. “I’m not used to the claws.” _Idiot,_ she thought,  _just broke that spell_.

“Ah,” He then laughed and sat up enough to kiss her. “Then I will refrain from using them.”

“Oh no-no, I didn’t mean-”

“More careful, then?”

“Yeah,” she grinned. Relieved that she didn't break the moment entirely. “I’d like that. Careful is better.” 

Being pulled forward by her hips, Jennifer had to place a hand on the wall beside her to avoid toppling forward. About to ask what he was doing, Jennifer sucked in a sharp intake of breath when she felt his tongue slide the length of her sex. She hadn’t expected such enthusiastic exploration, and felt the hot breath tickle her inner thighs. 

His technique, though uncertain at first, was to probe various parts of her until he elicited a response. She’d forgotten about the teeth, and the claws that would leave indentions in her thighs and scratches across her backside. “Careful is so-oh,” she bit her knuckles to muffle a gasp. “So very much- I like this.” 

A muffled snort of amusement ruffled the hair between her legs. 

“If you don’t stop,” she whispered, “I’m going to be useless in a few seconds.” 

Despite the reluctance, Guide ceased. She felt the bridge of his nose against her mons, heard the sharp inhale before he lay back. Jennifer could practically feel the smugness he projected and her cheeks grew hot thinking about it. Wanting to make up for the embarrassment of their first encounter, and surprise him, Jennifer took him by the base and eased him in. It was do it now, or second guess herself and end the night with disappointment.

The expression on his face was worth the discomfort of adjusting around a deceptively alien appendage. “Let me know before that- _that_. Just let me know so I don’t get my cervix perforated.”

Whether he heard her or not, Jennifer decided the odd clicking sound was confirmation enough.  _He won't last long_ , she reminded herself,  _I won't_. 

She leaned forward to prop herself onto her elbow, knowing her legs were already getting tired. The closeness was better. The warmth between them, despite his lower metabolism. As she began to move her hips, she was made aware of the scratches, now beginning to sting. Hot little slices across the tops of her thighs, lower back and buttocks. Jennifer bit her lower lip while heat coiled in her belly at the thought. 

Unable to risk losing herself, Jennifer glanced down at Guide. The absolute submission and look of drunk glazed pleasure was enough to push her over the edge. With a shuddered gasp, she slid free of him. Maintaining the rolling motion of her hips, she felt a hot wetness slip between them. It left a viscous trail and a rumbling groan as Guide melted beneath her. 

Jennifer rested her head on his shoulder, listening to his pulse as she regained her breath. While her heart pounded in her ears and throbbed in her chest, Guide's pumped steadily. 

"Do you still feel like shit?" The words sounded odd, as if the cadence was not completely right.

"Ask me later."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the infrequency of the updates. The holidays are a busy time for me both at home and work.


	12. John

John sat back and squeezed the bridge of his nose once Alabaster’s face winked into darkness. Ember stood beside him, his hands clenching and unclenching. “I do not like this plan,” he said aloud.

“Ditto,” John sighed and propped his elbows on his knees. “One of my people is being put in a dangerous position. If we lose Dr. Keller-“

“I share your apprehension.” Ember finished the sentence John had left hanging heavy between them. “My Queen, my Commander, and my home are all in danger if this plan does not come to fruition.”

The Wraith, when he glanced at him, was frowning at the terminal. In retrospect, Ember did have considerably more to lose. He’d already lost one hive during the war, and had a major life turn: Transitioning from cleverman, to the Queen’s favorite, to glorified babysitter. He felt for the guy.

After spending more than two weeks with a Wraith, co-watching two toddlers belonging to the women they loved, it was hard to see him as the life sucking space vampire, and scourge of this galaxy. Ember was just as harried, and fatigued as him. 

“Hey,” John said as he stood. “You want to split a case while the kids are asleep?”

“A what?”

“Beer. The new shipment came today, and we got a pretty good selection this time.”

Despite his furrowed brows, Ember nodded. John was surprised he’d not tried beer yet. With all the time Ember spent with Zelenka, he’d have guessed the Wraith had tried a variety of liquids that could probably peel paint. John shuddered inwardly at the licorice flavored memory.

“Well come on then.”

The presence of Guide’s crew had become so frequent that armed escorts were no longer mandatory. Roughly 40% of the staff had been given the retrovirus since it was deemed safe for use. Dr. Keller predicted that a small percentage may be allergic, but so far, other than three cases of mild flu-like symptoms had been reported. Without the fear of being drained, the need for protection lessened.

It certainly did wonders for public relations. Wraith were friendlier without semi automatic weapons pointed at them.

“You know,” he said once they got to the empty room he used to live in; now home to objects he could not easily childproof. “I haven’t done this since Rod-“ John stopped, the mini-fridge door held open and the case suspended by two fingers. “In a while.”

Ember said nothing, but when he looked at the alien scientist, he saw a flicker of something that may have been sympathy. Perhaps he was just projecting human expressions onto him. 

He let the door close with a muffled thump and sat the cardboard box on the nightstand. “Darling missing his mom yet?”

“Yes. As much as he enjoys playing with Torren, he does wish to see Alabaster soon.” Ember took the cold can in his claws and examined the label. John watched him turn it over several times before hooking the tip of his unarmored claw under the tab and popping it open. “He is doing well not to show his distress, but he has been upset several nights.”

“Well, they’ll be back soon.” John said to reassure his own mind that the plan won’t go sideways. He’d like to know if Jennifer will remain in one piece. “We’ve been trying to set up trade in that Queen’s territory for a while. When the civil war broke out, that went to shit once the worshipper colonies got word we associated with the Alliance. Hell, even neutral territories wouldn’t touch us. The threat that Death would raze them was too high to risk for a few bags of fruit and rice.”

“It will be difficult to reverse the damage.” Ember agreed. Cautiously he sipped at the beer and pulled a face that John had a hard time figuring out. The Wraith coughed and wrinkled his nose.

“That bad, huh?”

“It’s very unpleasant.”

 

When John reached into the case and grasped at air and cardboard, he glanced over at the Wraith in the chair beside him. Ember had slumped back, his chin resting on his chest. It worried John for a moment that beer had caused some sort of allergic reaction, until finally the Wraith’s chest rose in a deep inhale.

He’d never seen a Wraith truly sleep, and found himself rather pleased that Ember trusted him enough to do so. In all the years he’d known Guide, he’d only witnessed the meditative state they enter when trying to conserve energy. Both Teyla and Jennifer mentioned in passing that the old bastard snored.

Guide. He wondered what that Wraith was up to, what he was about to get Jennifer into. At the moment, Atlantis was relatively safe. The territories surrounding the systems their base occupied was under the control of the Alliance. While the exact location of Atlantis was unknown, even to Waterlight, they were aware that any hostility would result in the complete withdrawal of Lantean resources. 

Ember shifted, drawing his long legs up onto the chair, and tucked himself into a corner. He looked almost vulnerable until John noticed how his hands were positioned, guarding his face. The resemblance to the creature in Alien ran a chill down his spine to settle in the pit of his stomach. _They’re still people, weird, human eating people_. He reminded himself.

Rubbing his face vigorously, John leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. If only Ronon could see that. He sighed at the unused guitar gathering dust against the wall. The last time he played, Ronon was sitting where Ember was. The Satedan left not long after Alabaster arrived to attend Rodney’s funeral. Maybe it had been too much for him? The people he blamed for Rodney’s death sitting alongside Teyla and Zelenka.

He couldn’t blame him for his prejudice. Ronon had gone through some horrific shit until he joined the team. John just wished that he’d look past that, see that not every Wraith, or Hive for that matter, condoned hunting Runners. The man could barely look Teyla in the eye after her last masquerade as Steelflower.

John knew if Ronon didn’t leave first, something would boil over. It nearly did when the kids were playing tag. It was a lucky chance that Teyla had been close at hand to notice the change in his demeanor when he saw Darling chasing Torren. John had scooped both boys up to take them to the cafeteria while Teyla talked Ronon down. They’re just little boys, they don’t care what they look like, what their mothers look like; what they cared about (at the moment) were dinosaurs and planes.

“I apologize,” Ember said suddenly. John glanced over as the Wraith unfolded himself. They were much less imposing without the leather armor. Ember had learned quickly that cotton was much more comfortable when your day revolved around keeping a toddler out of trouble.

“For what?”

“Falling asleep. I’m afraid that is poor guest manners.”

“Nah,” John grinned. “You probably needed it. Uh-“ He scratched the back of his neck, “You ever listen to any of our music?”

“Radek has played recording on a few occasions. It was _interesting_ , different, but not to my liking, if I may be honest.”

“Yeah, well, opera is more of an acquired taste. Want to give Johnny Cash a try?”


	13. Jennifer

Jennifer swallowed the lump in her throat as the distorted image of Colonel Sheppard vanished into an array of falling data. Ronon wanted to meet up planetside after the liaison with From Dust. John suggested to get as much information about what he’d been up to, not that he didn’t trust Ronon, he just wanted an update. 

It was more than that, she assumed. Ronon had taken off after Atlantis signed the treaty with the Alliance, along with a small number of personnel who didn’t agree with the merge. Too many had lost so much to the Wraith, while for some it was purely xenophobia. 

Alabaster moved from behind her and nodded to Guide. Jennifer turned as he left. 

“The transport is ready, Jennifer. You have everything prepared?”

“Yeah,” she chewed her lip briefly and patted her pockets. “Yeah, Silver loaded what I don’t have on me.”

The Queen inclined her head and there was a slight frown which she quickly masked with a close-lipped smile. “Very well. Then it is time to depart. We should not keep From Dust waiting.”

Following behind Alabaster, Jennifer focused on the red hair in front of her so she didn’t think about the uneasy fluttering in her stomach. Other than Alabaster and Teyla, she’d never faced another Queen’s scrutiny. It terrified her to think that if she said, or thought the wrong thing, it would all go to shit. 

Stepping up to the large personal transport, she nearly tripped as her toe caught on the lip of the open hatch. Silver was there to grab her arm. She smiled up at the harried looking cleverman. “Wish me luck?”

“You will need it.” He said, and released her once she was up the ramp. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

The Wraith smiled. Once his feet left the ramp, it folded shut with a wet hiss, sealing them in and pressurizing the holding bay. Alabaster had taken her seat towards the helm in a miniature version of her throne. She and Guide were regulated to the rear benches where the handful of drones sat. 

The trip to From Dust’s Hive, Jennifer had forgotten the name of the ship, would take an hour. Her stomach clenched and she felt sick. 

Beside her, Guide placed his off hand on her shoulder. When she glanced up, he was watching the pilot, but the hand squeezed her in reassurance. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, wishing she’d brought something to read or listen to.  

After a sluggish hour of stress induced nausea, the transport rocked as the Hive’s umbilical hooked onto it. Jennifer clenched her fists as the hatch folded open to the dart bay. Four drones awaited them, stun rifles held down and relaxed. It looked like a bluff, they could just as quickly raise their weapons and open fire. What really bothered her was the lack of high ranking Wraith. Even if the Commander couldn’t meet guests, the second in command would. From what little she knew of Wraith etiquette, this was extremely rude. 

From Dust’s drones parted, two on either side of the ramp, waiting for them to exit. Alabaster glided past, shoulder back and head high. With the heels she wore under her gown, she was an imposing figure, taller than her father.

Guide and she followed. The pilot and their retinue of drones would remain on the transport. The drones flanked them as they made their way to the antechamber to await their audience with From Dust.

The wait was not long as the massive doors to the throne room opened. Each drone departed in pairs, leaving them to enter.

 

There she sat, dwarfed by her throne, alone but for a single servant bearing a tray with sweet wine and sliced fruit. The pearlescent cream gown she wore offset the shining white hair that framed her face in a lion’s mane of loose, heavy curls. Despite the length of fabric that pooled over the dais, Jennifer could see that her feet were tucked beneath her. The Queen looked so young, but gave off such an air of regality that she seemed more aged than Alabaster, while she appeared to be not so much older than Waterlight.

From Dust regarded them with warm, brilliantly golden eyes. When she stood, Jennifer saw that the gown only covered one breast. She fought not to stare, knowing it was rude to do so as a human in the presence of a Queen. A necklace bearing a tooth or a tusk from a very large creature swung like a pendulum as she stepped down from the throne. As she approached, Jennifer could see the tip of it had been dipped in gold that matched her eyes. 

“Deafeningshout tells me you come bearing news that concerns my worshippers.” She said as she came within arm’s length of Alabaster and herself. Jennifer could feel Guide behind her; smell the warm leather and scent of hot metal mingling with the spicy perfumed oil From Dust wore.

“I am sure you have heard of the treatment that allows endless feeding.” Alabaster’s voice was tight, presumably from the proximity of the ill reputed Queen, although Jennifer could see no visible weapons.

A ruthless conqueror and Mother-Queen killer didn’t match the delicate features and kind, intelligent eyes of the Wraith who stood before them.  Clearly she was comfortable enough around her crew to dress in such a manner, and brazen to do so in front of guests. 

“I have. I sent my best cleverman to investigate the rumors that reached my territory. He returned not two cycles ago with a very interesting tale.” 

Other than the necklace, which seemed more of a trophy than decorative, Jennifer noticed no other jewels or embellishments on From Dust. It was rare to see a Queen lacking the armor-like rings. The pale hands with their smooth tipped, translucent claws were bare of anything other than a spattering of dark green freckles.

“With me is the human woman, Doctor Jennifer Keller of Atlantis and Fair One amongst our kind. She and my acting Consort, Guide, developed the retrovirus. I seek an alliance with your hive and offer the treatment for your worshippers in exchange.”

Once introduced, Jennifer dared to glance upwards to meet From Dust’s eyes. Out of the peripheral of her vision, Jennifer saw Guide lift his head. Well-shaped lips parted to reveal mature dark fangs in an “Oh?” She’s a lot older than she looks, Jennifer thought to herself.

Behind them the door to the Queen’s personal chambers opened. Unwilling to turn her head away for the sake of politeness, Jennifer waited until the figure came into view. In stead, she watched From Dust’s face light up with a smile. The figure was a human man followed by another, a tall, broad shouldered Wraith.  

A human in her private chambers, dressed more like a blade than a servant surprised Jennifer. Dark brown hair was well groomed and worn long; his thick beard was dyed a dark crimson. It would have looked silly to Jennifer if it were not for his handsomeness. The proximity to the Queen, the sword at his waist, and his relaxed demeanor around the larger blade let her guess that this man held a great deal of rank.

The blade bowed his head, “I apologize for the interruption, my Queen.” His voice was stone personified, a great rumbling of an earthquake. “Burden has reported outsiders sighted near the colonies.”

The man bent at the waist in an elaborate bow, “My men have been dispatched to search the areas. Gurt has issued orders for the villages to close their gates until the search ends.” He straightened and shook his head to clear the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. 

“Good. Stone, I want you to join Burden, and take as many blades as you see fit” She lifted her chin, “Find out who this is.”

“Yes my Queen,” Stone said after a moment’s hesitation. 

Jennifer wondered which of those two made her that necklace. 

 

The Queens spoke, or Jennifer assumed they did. The air was heavy, her ears rang, and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. For reassurance, she stole a glance at Guide, who stood impassive behind his daughter.

She’d grown used to Watertight and Alabaster speaking aloud for her sake, if she was with them. So she waited patiently, for she had no other choice but to do so. Ignoring the goose pimples that radiated down her arms was difficult, and she suppressed a shudder. The discussion must be heated for her to be able to feel the residual effects.

Suddenly the sensation stopped. The room was still, the goose pimples gone and the buzzing in her ears silenced. Alabaster turned to her and said: “You will accompany us planetside to test the vaccine on a small number of volunteers.”

“I will provide whatever assistance you require, Fair One.” From Dust added. Her hands were clasped in front of her.

“Thank you, my lady.” She was unsure if the title “queen” was appropriate, as in their hierarchy, Alabaster was considered her direct Queen.

It appeared to appease From Dust as she showed no outward signs of displeasure. The white haired Queen inclined her head in acknowledgement. “I wish to start immediately. Will that be an issue?”

“Oh, no-no. I have everything with me, as long as your test group is no larger than ten or so. Adults, I mean.”

“Then no more than ten it shall be.” She turned to Alabaster, “As you have a transport at the ready, would it be too forward to request that it be of service to me?”

“Of course not.” Alabaster responded with a tight smile.

Jennifer recognized that tone. Alabaster didn’t like the idea, but she wanted an allegiance just as much as her father did. With the two of them working for the same goal, Jennifer knew the chances of it blowing up in their faces was minimal. Although it if did, it would do so spectacularly. Jennifer just hoped she’d be dead in that scenario.

From Dust took no blades, no clevermen, but the young worshipper girl followed. Inside the transport, sitting across from the two of them, she was able to get a good look at her. She had dark skin, like the man the blade called Burden. Like his beard, her chin had been rubbed or tattooed with the same shade of crimson. Her thick hair was a shade darker, presumably because she had seen far less sunlight. Her body was soft, rounded with little to no visible muscle tone. Her eyes remained cast downward or focused on some unoccupied spot of the hull.

Then ship shuddered as it landed, and the hatch opened to sunlight. Heat rushed in violently and blasted Jennifer in the face, pushing her bangs back. “Jesus,” she muttered, wondering if she should just leave her jacket behind.

Even if she had wanted to, From Dust and Alabaster gave her no time. The two Queens rose and were nearly down the ramp when she turned around from gathering up her pack.

Rushing to keep up, she fell in line beside Guide in the hope that his shadow would give her some protection from the hot climate.

 

The ship had landed just outside a walled in village. Pale stone rose up, obscuring all but the wing tips of what she assumed was a statue at the center. “We will set up a station in the guard house outside of my villa.” From Dust said from a few paces ahead.

“Does it have access to fresh water and a refrigeration unit?” Jennifer said before she thought to use the formalities.

“Water yes, but I will have Bhima order the cold box to be moved.”

“Okay, good.” She felt Guide’s hand bump her in the ribs. “I-er-thank you, my lady. The cold packs I have won’t last long in this heat.”

At their approach, two heavy wooden doors swung open. Colorful buildings sprawled before them. The roads were paved with smooth grey stones and very clean. She saw no signs of the litter typically found in most of the villages she’d visited. As they ventured further the tinkling sound of fountains could be heard from all directions.

It was the shade she was most thankful for. Trees lined the streets, and lush vegetation filled the gaps between the buildings. Everywhere the scent of fruit and flowers swirled with the water cooled breeze. “It’s beautiful,” she said to no one.

The streets were crowded with people. She had expected a Wraith worshipper colony to be more deserted, the people hiding in their homes. Here, no one seemed to pay them any more heed than a bow to From Dust as they walked.

Positioned in the center of the village, the gargantuan statue she’d glimpsed earlier squatted atop a mound of golden human bones. The obsidian clawed feet each gripped a shining, cracked skull. Great black wings cast a dark shadow across the square, flared outward with the tips curling inwards toward the central, ivory figure.

The creature’s torso and head were carved from pure white stone, smooth and as pearlescent as From Dust’s hair. It had the face and breasts of a Wraith female. When Jennifer stepped closer, she saw the face, despite bearing scorch marks and some cosmetic damage, looked nearly identical to From Dust. The lips were a bit thinner, the nose more pointed, and the eyes set closer together.

“I see you have met my mother,” From Dust said behind her, causing Jennifer to jump. It elicited a soft laugh from the Queen, who now moved to her side. “She was a tyrant, thought of herself as a god made flesh.” She paused and regarded the noseless face, “She was wrong.”

“What happened?” Jennifer asked, and then quickly added, “If you don’t mind telling me, my lady.”

From Dust hummed and lifted her brows in a shrug, “So many are quick to place my mother’s blame upon my shoulders. It would be pleasant to have someone hear my view of the whole terrible calamity.” The Queen glanced back to the retreating forms of Bhima, Guide, and Alabaster.

“She was that bad, huh?”

“That is to put it lightly.”

Jennifer laughed before she could catch herself, “sorry.”

“It’s fine. We can laugh now that her reign is over. I have worked so hard to repair the damage she caused, not only to my crew, but also to my followers. A hive thrives on respect, but it crumbles in fear.” Her hair shone a soft shell pink as the setting sun forced her mother’s shadow away from them.

“Her name was Blueiceshining before she took the title Shining Victory, although she had no victories to be proud of. She preyed on those who could not fight back to hide her own weakness amongst our kind. She was relentless and cruel to the people who served us, killed those who displeased her, or simply because she felt like it.

“Those bones you see are simply dipped in gold. They were neither cast nor carved.” The realization made Jennifer grow cold as she had only moments before admired the intricate detailing and anatomical accuracy of the workmanship. “I was nearing adulthood when it was finished. I did not give her the chance to see the completed work.”

“Why did she choose to look so monstrous?”

“There was a winged predator on this planet, it has long since been driven to extinction since her defeat. She enjoyed them; as they kept the populations low enough to control.  I have seen only one in my lifetime,” she held up the tooth around her neck. “This belonged to the last of its kind. Burden slew the beast before it could attack the village. This trophy was his gift to me for ending my mother’s reign. It has been so long. He was so very young then.”

“He doesn’t look so old.”

From Dust smiled at her, “Burden was given my Gift in return for his uniting the colonies and establishing a peaceful existence for both of our species.”

“How old is he?”

“I believe he will be nearing one hundred and forty three years soon.”

“Wow, um, well, he doesn’t look bad for a man nearly a century and a half old.”

“You do not appear to be one so concerned with age, Fair One,” the Queen laughed.

Heat flared in her cheeks and burned her ears. “What makes you say that?”

With a snort, From Dust gave her the same look her father did when he caught her in a lie. “You do not hide your affection for Guide well. Oh, don’t fret, Fair One. I am not one to judge a person for who they choose to love.”

“Burden?”

“Yes, and Stone. I trust them with my life and my heart, and those I do not give lightly.”

“Was that always his name? Burden, I mean. It’s a very Wraith name.”

“No,” From Dust turned and began to walk back to the group waiting near a squat building with a bright blue door. Jennifer hurried to follow. “When he pledged himself to me, he left his birth name, Djehuti, and took the new name.” She continued as Jennifer caught up. “Stone had called him a burden in jest at the beginning of his courtship. He took the name just to spite him.”

“Um, if you don’t mind, why are you telling me?”

“A queen who trusts no one is just as foolish as a queen who trusts everyone. I see you Jennifer Keller, Fair One, and I trust you never to betray me.”


	14. Guide

The heavy foliage was a blessing once the sun reached it’s zenith. They had set up a small station on the central patio in the villa. Guide remained close to the kitchen, where the unused samples were housed in cold storage. Still, the heat hang heavy, clinging to every part of his body, and clogging his sinuses.  The leather armor creaked and squelched unpleasantly with every move. Guide shook his head to dislodge the hair that had begun to stick to his neck. While Jennifer bustled, seemingly unaffected by the heat, he contemplated the idiocy of not shaving his beard. It was like wool wrapped around his jaw, and just as absorbent. 

Unlike previous colonies, volunteers were more than plentiful. Many served Wraith in their establishments, and the idea that extra coin could be earned was enough to persuade those skeptical of the retrovirus’s effects. Word traveled quickly, and the test supply was dwindling within three hours. Some simply came for a glimpse of From Dust’s private sanctum, others brought children far too young to receive the drug. Thirty villagers out of the initial sixty had been inoculated. Ten had been the original agreement, and still more waited lined up along the breezeway. At a glance, he picked out five who were there for other reasons, and another handful who were under the age limit.

“Hey, Guide?”

He glanced up from the tablet he’d long lost focus on, expecting to be asked to turn away a belligerent parent once again. Jennifer stood before him, red cheeked and shiny with sweat. “How many samples do we have left?”

“Five,” he responded, after leaning into the kitchen archway. The refrigeration unit was pitifully empty, and the ice block was creating a growing puddle on the tiles.

“Damn-well no, good. It means we’ll get a break, but that line is still nearly to the street.” She wiped her damp bangs out of her face. “I’d hate to tell all those people to come back later, they waited so long.”

“They can wait again. We’ve already surpassed our agreed allotment, nor were we prepared for a full run.”

“No shit. Once the last blood analysis comes back, I’ll get the results to From Dust.” She untied her hair and wound it into a knot, high on the back of her head. “Are we staying here tonight?”

“Yes. A room has been prepared for you. Just ask one of the servants, and I am certain they will take you there.”

 

Servants ushered the people away, and guards escorted a few more off the property. Guide stood watch as the station was broken down and stored away. As the agreement stated, one vial of the retrovirus remained unused, unopened. That and the results from each inoculation were given directly to From Dust. The Queen had overseen the entire process from the balcony above, alongside Alabaster.

His daughter waited in the foyer, leaning heat lazy against one of the massive teal and gold doors. “I should have packed lighter gowns,” she said in greeting.

“I have been tempted to try and blend in with the locals, if not for the convince, but for the relief.”

“Purple would suit you. Perhaps a shop is still open.”

“I’m more concerned with whether a bath is ready than a shop.”

Alabaster snorted and smiled. “Today went better than expected, despite this heat.”

“Your chat with From Dust was fortuitous, I imagine.”

“Very. You will need to get the data to her, still, but she has already agreed to join us. Two hive ships, and four planets are available to us.”

He allowed a glimpse of his pride and followed his daughter into the sitting room. Low couches were covered in pillows, the floor littered with various ornate rugs. It was as if From Dust simply threw gifts and left them where they landed. Only a small silver statue seemed to be in it’s proper place. It was an exaggerated figure of a woman in armor, poised on her toes with a broadsword raised high. 

Alabaster sank into one of the couches, partially engulfed in the cushions. “Only two negative reactions?”

“The results point to an allergy, although it is not for certain. The samples have been too varied, but with a population this large, we may be able to pin point it.”

“Interesting idiom, _pin point._ Did you learn that from the Atlanteans?”

Alabaster was grinning when he looked at her. In that moment she was a mirror of her mother and he felt his heart clench. Composing himself before she could detect the sudden shift in emotion, he mimicked Jennifer’s action of tying his hair into a knot. “From a guard,” he said once his neck was blissfully exposed to cooler air. 

 

The sky had dimmed to a dull purple with a sliver of fleshy pink still clinging to the horizon. Guide watched from his guest quarters as Jennifer slipped away. Her recently washed hair still damp and leaving wet tracks along the back of her jacket. She was off to meet with the Runner.

Not an hour before, one of his men alerted Alabaster and himself of Ronon’s arrival to the planet. He was alone, as far as they knew, although Guide was less certain of this. The anarchist group he had been part of were not only disgruntled locals, but former Altantean military; they wouldn’t let a key member go off alone.

Alabaster suspected they were disguised as traders and locals. “Eavesdropping wont be easy,” she mused from his side.

Since her meeting with From Dust, and feeling the other Queen satisfied, she joined her father. Although she took the time for a quick bath and a change of clothes. The servants assigned to her had provided adequate clothing for the weather: a pale violet strip of sheer cloth that they expertly wrapped into a flattering gown.

Guide had simply shed his heavy coat and armored jerkin. The heat quickly dried his trousers and undershirt while he rinsed the sweat and dirt from his hair.

“I don’t expect you to fool the locals, just Ronon and any spies who happened to follow.” Alabaster watched as Jennifer exited the main gate and vanished down one of the narrow streets. 

“I don’t expect much difficulty, if Jennifer does not expose me in any way.” Guide responded. He retrieved his shirt from it’s place hanging by the window, and pulled the dry, sweat stiff undershirt over his head.

“One would hope she wouldn’t be that stupid. I trust her, but not her acting skills. Try to keep out of sight.” She handed him a length of rust colored cloth. 

Guide wrapped the fabric over his head and across his shoulder in a makeshift hooded cloak. “Well?”

“Properly dashing, now hurry on, you old fool.”

 

Jennifer must have gotten lost, as she had only reached the tavern shortly before him. Guide had to wait under the heavy fronds of a potted tree to avoid being noticed. While he was certain he blended in with the people milling about in the coolness of the evening, he wasn't as sure that he could fool Jennifer as such a close distance.

The tavern was on the edge of the village, close to the main gates. This strategic location drew in visitors who didn’t know the prices were better a few streets away. When the door opened he could see the tavern was packed with humans. The staff barely had room to get to the tables. Guide frowned at the prospect of trying to overhear a conversation in such a populated area. 

As he approached the building, he picked out a small table next to the still open window on the patio. He gave it a wide berth, and was able to glimpse Jennifer exchanging a friendly embrace with the Runner. 

The Satedan had been eating poorly since leaving Atlantis. His face had lost it’s fullness, his waist was narrow, and his arms were ropey cords of muscle. Where ever he was stationed, they were low on supplies. Possibly an unoccupied planet, or far enough from a village that trade was difficult. 

Settling into the worn wooden chair, Guide propped his back against the wall, so only the rust covered crown of his head was visible through the window.  Insects swarmed lazily around the fountain a few yards away and the flickering lamps that lined the streets.  Guide snorted a dusty winged insect away from his nose as a round faced boy approached his table. Focused on straining to pick out both Jennifer’s and Ronon’s voices from the crowd inside, Guide hadn’t noticed the young man until he dared to touch his shoulder.

“May I get you anything?” the boy asked without the formalities common to worshippers. 

“Wine would be preferable,” when the boy hesitated, Guide waved his off hand, “Or whatever is most popular.”

When the boy vanished through the side door, Guide shut his eyes and resumed listening. He was growing frustrated with only catching snippets of the conversation, and decided to simply allow Jennifer to report back to his daughter. Alabaster would know better if she was hiding anything, as he held a rather strong bias. So he opted for watching the individuals around the tavern, particularly those coming and going from the hostel across the street.

It wasn’t long before the boy returned with a pitted and scratched metal cup. Guide reached into a pocket to give the boy a few coins, but the youth simply shook his head and returned inside.

Lifting his brows in a shrug, Guide inspected the contents of his cup. The liquid looked black in the dim light. It was just light enough that his heat vision provided a faint aura around people and even fainter around objects. Tipping the cup to his lips, he grimaced when the bitter flavor washed over his tongue. It clung to his mouth and invaded his sensory pits with a foul, burning aftertaste. He had to suppress a gag and swallow the liquid.

Just as night closed in, with the insects becoming nearly unbearable, Jennifer and Ronon exited the tavern. Guide pulled the hood further down to hide the tattoo over his eye. Grabbing the man’s wrist, Jennifer said with a sad smile. “Be careful, okay?”

“You too.” Ronon shifted his weight from foot to foot before grabbing her in a tight embrace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed updates. Things have been busy lately.


	15. Guide

The ship was silent when they docked. Guide exited first, followed by Burden. The man gripped the hilt of his sword, seemingly just as uneasy as he. He felt no life signs but theirs’.

“What is it?” Jennifer whispered behind him.

From Dust moved past her to follow Burden. Her gown had been tied up so it only hung just above her knees. “Where is your crew?”

Guide shook his head and frowned. This wasn’t right. “Stay here,” he said, looking at Jennifer and his daughter.

“Bullshit, no. We aren’t splitting up.” Jennifer’s response was immediate and harsh.

Alabaster nodded, “I agree with Jennifer.” She bent down to remove her heeled boots. “We need to access the security terminal. I want to know what happened to my men.”

Irritation was stamped down and Guide extended his arm to allow his daughter to lead. He’d rather have them close to the ship if something were to happen. His life was expendable, to a degree; at least when it concerned his offspring.

Resigned to the prospect of keeping more than his own life safe, Guide followed his daughter out of the dart bay. Jennifer was close behind him, stun pistol in hand, having removed it from her pack. From Dust and Burden were to his right, side by side.

The hallway was desolate, still lit for the day cycle. Soft swirls of mist roiled across the floor, keeping the humidity levels ideal. Guide found himself almost wishing the lights were off. Detecting a heat discrepancy was far easier, if they found themselves in an ambush situation.

Discomfort coiled at the base of his spine as they ventured deeper into the hive. It prickled along the back of his neck and across his scalp. He felt Alabaster’s hand brush against his arm as she fell back to walk closer to him. A brief flicker of her own unease washed across his mind. Jennifer was silent, tight lipped and rigid.

“This isn’t right.” She whispered, more to herself than the group. Suddenly Jennifer stopped and looked down the hall that led to the research lab. “Guide.”

He turned to see Jennifer had fallen behind.

~Why is she stopping?~ From Dust inquired.

“Did those _things_ from the facility give off any mental signatures?”

Guide frowned at the implication and inhaled a sharply. “They did not.”

“Shit. _Shitshitshit_. We need to check if Ash got out. If she changed. Alabaster, are the servant quarters included in the security readout? ”

“Yes.”

 

While the atmosphere was tense, they arrived at the security terminal unscathed. Jennifer’s hands trembled visibly as she sat the stun pistol on a bench and unloaded her pack. She sat, allowing Alabaster and Guide to review the data.

Guide glanced back when Burden joined her, sitting opposite her bag. He returned his focus to the scrolling text, looking for anything that might give him an idea of what happened since they made planetfall.

_There_. He paused the stream and indicated to Alabaster the door readout. Ash’s chambers had been opened yesterday for an extended period. Alabaster brought up the footage of the corridor. For a long moment nothing happened: A cleverman and a blade entered the room, presumably to record Ash’s worsening condition. The hallway remained empty for several minutes until a large, dark blur streaked across the screen and vanished out of the camera’s sight.

“Fuck,” he heard Jennifer gasp behind him.

A young cleverman walked into the hallway. Guide wasn’t completely certain, but he thought it might have been Twin. The braided up-do the two siblings frequently wore was distinctive. They watched as the cleverman peered into the corridor, the horror that crept across his face as he dropped the data pad and tried to flee. This confirmed it was Twin. His sibling, Chaser was a seasoned blade while Twin was the meeker of the two.

Guide turned away from the terminal while Alabaster watched as the cleverman was torn to shreds. “We should have terminated her.” Alabaster’s voice was tight, quelling the roiling emotions she did not wish the others to feel.

“We could not have foreseen the consequences,” Guide responded, turning back to the gore-strewn hallway on the screen. “Nor should we reflect on what should and should not have been. At the moment, we need to get back to the dart bay.”

“What about Ash? What if someone comes to see why a hive was abandoned?” Jennifer asked.

Guide transferred the security data, and wired the input from the research lab onto a crystal. He brought the delicate thing to Jennifer’s bag and secured it in her padded laptop sleeve. “It is a risk I’m willing to take. I’m more concerned about the coup that is going to take place.”

“Yeah, but-“

“Ash is one creature. Yes she cost me good men, but that loss is minimal compared to the potential harm from the information Ronan gave you.”

“I agree,” From Dust sighed from behind Alabaster. “While I sympathize with your loss, this could be to our advantage.”

“A trap,” Alabaster nodded. “What better enticement than an abandoned hive.” She looked at Guide, “Do you have all the information you need?”

He nodded, zipping the pack shut and holding it out to Jennifer.

 

They had reached the intersection that divided the recreation area and private quarters. Burden froze, grabbing his Queen by her offhand to stop her. Guide held both arms out to shield Jennifer and Alabaster, who walked along side him.

Alabaster took Jennifer’s arm and pulled her close. ~What do we do?~

A dark shape loomed at the end of the hallway that led to the sparing arena. It was upright, tall, and not as bulky as the creature from the facility. The thing moved into the light, long limbed and gangly. Ash had been finely boned prior to infection.

~Go to the Queen’s chambers. _Now_. ~ Guide’s tension was open.

Alabaster pulled Jennifer along. The woman’s shorter legs made it difficult to keep up, and she all but dragged her into the antechamber. Guide and From Dust soon followed, with Burden lagging.

A shout rang out in the hallway and From Dust’s fear radiated outward.

 

Burden shut the door before the beast could enter. The roars of anger were muffled as it slammed its body against the barrier. At his side, Jennifer covered her ears to mute the sound.  At his back his daughter and From Dust stood close together, turned inward, for their defense.

~What are we going to do?~ From Dust asked him directly.

~Speak for their benefit, it is not wise to try and spare them,~  he responded, and then spoke: “Steelflower’s chamber has a direct exit to the dart bay that is only known to myself and two servants.”

He felt Alabaster’s indignation at not knowing this flare, but she said nothing against him. This hive had been Steelflower’s, not her’s. “It is our only option,” she said, glancing cautiously at the ventilation ducts. “Show me.”

The pounding against the door was growing frantic. Metal scraping against hardened leather drew his attention as the man drew his sword. He turned his head toward them; “Go,” he said, “All of you. I will not be long after.” When From Dust hesitated, Guide gripped her shoulder with his off hand and pushed her through the doorway.

~Do not stay for a blade’s sake.~

Steelflower’s former chambers were silent. Nothing had been disturbed since she’d last occupied them. The lingering sharp, spicy scent of her still clung to the fabrics and furs.

Reaching up to a hidden panel, he pressed his palm against the smooth surface until it clicked inward. The wall itself parted for them, tendrils wound in on themselves, forming a narrow doorway.

When Jennifer moved to follow Alabaster, Guide took her arm and shook his head. The low light, and absolute darkness that would follow could only hinder their progress if she went in unassisted.

A roar, much closer than before, rattled them all. The beast had gotten past the first door. Burden soon entered the room, again closing and locking the door. Even at this distance, Guide could see the deep gashes that tore through armor and flesh across his torso. Blood oozed from both nostrils and his left hand gripped his side. When he turned, the violent purple of his entrails could be seen as he fought to keep them from spilling forth.

The injuries worried him, if they did not prove fatal. Sharing this information with From Dust would not be wise at this moment, as she touched the man’s face when he approached. How long would it be before it affected his mind? Guide knew that allowing him aboard the transport ship would be idiotic.

Jennifer removed her jacket and slipped the fine shirt that had been made for her over her head. Taking the small knife Ember had gifted her from its sheath, she cut the fabric so that it unfurled into a long single strip. “Keep hold, right there, yeah, until I can get this wrapped.”

Despite the furious creature fighting to enter the room, and the urgency projected by Alabaster from within the passage, Jennifer focused on binding the wound. When she was confident that it would hold in place, Jennifer slipped back into the jacket, zipping it up to her neck.

Burden nodded and thanked her. He faced his Queen and placed both hands on her shoulders. Red blood stained her gown and smeared across her skin. “Go.”

Jennifer hesitated and looked at Guide, who shook his head. He didn’t want to argue with her now, and took her by the elbow. When he felt From Dust relent, he pulled Jennifer into the darkness.


	16. Jennifer

Being handled through the narrow corridor, Jennifer gasped audibly when they emerged into a well lit room. Blinded and disoriented, she let Guide lead her as her eyes adjusted to the sudden shift in brightness. 

Burden abandoned, Ash, or what was left of her, as well. She hated that he stayed, but knew his sense of honor would have been insulted if she’d drug him through the escape. From Dust’s expression was unreadable when she glanced at the other Queen. For a Wraith as expressive as she, her face had become a closed mask. Jennifer didn’t blame her. Rodney’s death still prickled at the back of her mind, made her feel guilty when she knew she shouldn’t.

At the head of their small group Alabaster rushed to the door. When it opened Jennifer recognized where they were: the food storage. Empty slots where cocooned humans would be placed for consumption. It made her shiver to think about how only a year ago those spaces would have been filled. 

“The dart bay is not far,” Guide said for her benefit, low and close to her ear. 

“I know.” Most Hives, at least those she had seen, were laid out in very similar fashions. Returning pilots and blades would need food, so having a pantry near the bay would be practical. 

Through the labyrinthian chamber, Jennifer was pulled along. Her wrist was sore and Guide’s talons bit into her skin if she slowed too much. Her thighs and lungs burned from the exertion of trying to keep up with the three Wraith.

They had reached the wide doors of the dart bay when the growl came behind them. It made Jennifer’s blood chill. She didn’t want to turn around, she told herself that if she did, she wouldn’t make it. Still, a glance over her shoulder was enough. The thing that was Ash loomed in the corridor. The over stretched body hunched, ready to spring forward.

Jennifer had never been so happy to have her body jerked violently. Guide all but threw her into the waiting ship. Her left arm prickled with numbness. She watched as he backed into the waiting hatch, the knife he kept hidden in his gauntlet gripped tight in his off hand. 

Her mind buzzed with the conversation going on amongst the Wraith, uncomprehending. Why isn’t the hatch closing? She thought. When it did, and Guide was safely inside, she turned to see why. Alabaster sat in the pilot’s place, while the remains of their pilot lay next to her feet. The body was hollowed out, entrails consumed. The femurs gleamed red under the cockpit display. Ash had picked them bare, leaving the tougher meat behind. Jennifer felt a hot flash of anger at the thought of Ash being left alive. She quelled it, knowing she shouldn't feel angry at Ash. The young Wraith did not willingly become infected. Still, it bothered her to know she'd still be here, waiting and hungry for whoever is curious enough to board the Hive.

Guide seemed content to let his daughter have the controls. He sunk into the seat nearest her, exhaling sharply. The lines on his face more apparent than she’d ever seen them. While her mind hummed with speech, Guide finally spoke aloud: “We’ll reach the rendezvous point in fourteen hours.”

 

The planet agreed upon was a temperate one. There had barely been enough of a clearing to land the vessel, but Alabaster eased the ship to the ground gracefully. Jennifer had never been so happy to see the group of Wraith awaiting their arrival. 

Bonewhite and Silvertongue stood behind Stone. The larger blade broke from the group to meet From Dust. His off hand all but engulfed the Queen’s shoulder as he bent to briefly rest his brow to her crown. It was the most affectionate display she’d ever seen Wraith display publicly. For her part, From Dust seemed to have deflated. Her grandeur diminished somewhat with the loss of Burden.

Guide left her side to speak with Bonewhite. She watched as the two left for the basecamp that had been erected just beyond the tree line. Unsure of what to do with herself for the time being, Jennifer sought out Silvertongue, the cleverman and tailor, she’d spoken with on a few occasions. He was the only familiar face she felt comfortable approaching. 

The Wraith eyed her worn clothes with some disdain when she greeted him. “It’s been a long 48 hours.” She said with a forced laugh. She tried not to dwell on the terror and loss. If she did, she’d be a crumbling mess, and she couldn’t afford that. 

“In deed it has. I would suggest a bath and rest, but I’m afraid we only have rudimentary supplies. There is a wash basin at the camp, should you require it.”

The insinuation that she certainly required it was left unspoken. Jennifer couldn’t help but smile. Despite only having met Silvertongue a handful of times, she knew enough of him to realize he was a neat freak. His hair and clothes always impeccable. He was one of a very few she’d met who did not overly adorn himself with jewelry. Only his feeding hand bore the armored rings.

He walked alongside her as they entered the camp. “If I may be bold, Fair One,” He said before they parted ways. When she nodded, he continued: “You require additional clothing, and your coat could be improved upon.”

Jennifer hid her smile, “Yeah. Um, thanks.” She set her pack to the ground and removed her jacket, offering it to Silvertongue. When he vanished into one of the smaller tents along the perimeter of the camp did she realize he simply wanted something to occupy his mind. She didn’t blame him. Blades kept watch while the Drones patrolled the area. Clevermen were scattered, some with tasks, others seeking them. Silvertongue’s expertise was botany, she vaguely remembered overhearing, which left him with very little to do.

 

From Dust and Alabaster were settled into the central tent. More of a yurt, the building appeared semi organic like most things Wraith crafted. Inside it was stiflingly warm. Jennifer found the two Queens sitting opposite one another in a heated discussion. The pressure built behind her eyes until spots swam in her vision.

A hand at her back brought relief. Guide took her pack and led her to the makeshift field lab that had been set up. “Bonewhite’s scout party has located Ronon near the stargate,” he said. “I’ve instructed them to not bring him near the camp until he has spoken with you.”

“How did Ronon get here?”  
“That is what we must learn. You did not give him the coordinates?”

“You know I wouldn’t.”

“He is your friend.”

Jennifer clenched her fists and stared Guide directly in the eyes. “That doesn’t matter, and you know it.”

“Of course. Forgive my assumption.”

“I’m surprised you’d even make that leap.”

“Are you?”

She knew he had the right to be distrustful of her, after the incident with the Attero device. Still, it stung when she realized he still held some doubt to her word. Jennifer removed the data crystal from her pack and began to upload the information to the portable terminal. “Where am I meeting them?”

“In the western clearing.”

“Is anyone coming with me?”

“Stone will accompany you. As my men are already at the location.”

Jennifer found herself surprised that the Queen’s Consort was selected for this. From Dust had plenty men to spare who were without tasks. “Why him?” She decided to ask.

“I did not question the Queen’s decision.”

That’s a first, she thought.

 

Leaving Guide to continue her work, she joined Stone where he awaited her outside. Silvertongue was with him with a leather bundle in his arms. The cleverman extended the bundle to her when she approached. When she unfolded it, she saw he had not simply improved her jacket, he’d made her a new one entirely. Damn, he works fast, she thought as she held the jacket up. The leather was butter soft under her fingers. Unencumbered by her pack, she graciously put it on. It fit close to her body, though the shoulders and sleeves had room enough that she could wear a relatively thick sweater beneath it if she chose. “Thank you. It’s really beautiful.”

Silvertongue preened at her praise. 

 


End file.
